The lights, the colorful candles, the joyous prayers, the triumphant songs: There's something about a menorah that uniquely inspires awe and gratitude, more than 2,000 years after the Hanukkah story took place.
When the South Florida Sun Sentinel asked readers to share pictures of their menorahs, we suspected that the local Jewish community was home to an abundance of these precious objects, some classical and passed down through the generations; others, contemporary works of art bursting with color and energy.
But who knew? We didn't realize how many would come with emotion-laden stories, of vulnerable moments, cherished relationships and dogged efforts to preserve spiritual legacies.
Jewish homes are often filled with sacred items, ranging from mezuzahs to dreidels to Seder plates. But read below about the particular joy brought by these South Florida menorahs, which have made impressions deep in their owners' souls.
Boca Raton residents Robert and Fran Lenter feel an intimate bond with their brass menorah: Robert rescued it from a mound of rubble at Congregation Beth Israel in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina in 2005.
Their family had been members of the synagogue for four generations; Fran's father was president for seven years.
After the waters subsided, Robert, a freelance photographer, trudged through the destruction and encountered the remains of the historic Orthodox congregation. Its seven Torah scrolls and thousands of prayer books were ruined.
"I saw a shining object buried in the muddy rubble," he said. "I carefully made it over, reached down and dug it out, not knowing what it could be. It was a small brass menorah."
Robert said it was the same menorah, with two Lions of Judah holding up the Ten Commandments, that his wife had lit as a child in the synagogue's Sunday school.
"Since Katrina 20 years ago, I can safely say with all my heart and soul that God led me to Beth Israel to retrieve it," he said.
Some menorahs seem to represent their owners perfectly. In Stephanie Brown's family, each member lights a menorah inspired by their interests, such as baseball or fire trucks or motorcycles or shoes.
Brown's sisters bought her a moose menorah for her birthday 25 years ago because of her love for the antlered animals; she has a moose nightshirt, a mug and a wall-mounted moose head coat rack. She has seen several of the enormous mammals during trips with her family to Park City, Utah.
"They saw the menorah there and knew it was so me," the Boynton Beach resident said. "I've been lighting it at Hanukkah ever since."
Rabbi Greg Weisman of Temple Beth El in Boca Raton and his family feel linked with previous generations through their menorah, which was built by Weisman's great-grandfather, Jacob Cutler.
An artist born in Ukraine in 1904, Cutler used whatever materials he came across to craft his pieces. Weisman said Cutler made several menorahs, including one that measured at least 8 feet high and was placed atop a Los Angeles synagogue.
The Weismans' colorful and whimsical candelabrum is about 22 inches high, with a big arch resting on a smaller arch made of wood, colored stones and yellow yarn.
"People have seen pictures of it on social media and asked me where they could get one like it, and with a proud smile I tell them that it's one of a kind," Weisman said.
Whether a menorah is one of a kind or mass-produced, it is almost guaranteed to inspire comfort and awe as an additional candle is lit each night. Take a look at these beautiful works of art owned by our fellow South Floridians and know that all will be aflame over eight evenings in the coming days, creating a glow of Jewish connection across South Florida, the United States and the world.