Happy Hanukkah to all of you who will be celebrating the holiday. Because this festival of dedication runs in accordance with a calendar different from the Roman one we use to chart our Monday through Sunday schedules, the exact start and stop dates for this eight-night-long celebration change from year to year. This year, Hanukkah (or Chanukah, depending) runs from Thursday, Dec. 10, to Friday, Dec. 18.

Brunswick resident Heather D. Martin wants to know what’s on your mind; email her at heather@heatherdmartin.com.

I am the daughter of two United Church of Christ-ordained ministers. It may seem strange then that, growing up, my family also honored Hanukkah. Now, I do not mean to imply that we properly observed it, or practiced it as our faith. That would be inaccurate and presumptive of me. But we did honor it.

In our home that meant making some of the traditional foods, playing rounds of dreidel (with the standard-issue chocolate gelt), and being instructed by my parents as to the history of the holiday, that it celebrated the rededication, a reclaiming, of a sacred space after a long and arduous battle to reclaim a faith and culture.

The timing of the holiday is advantageous as well.

Winter is dark. Winter is cold. Winter is a time for great introspection and reflection, sure, but it can also be a time of isolation and despair. It is not a coincidence that winter is the time for many major religions and cultures to celebrate a festival of lights. From the solstice gatherings of the pagans, to the colorful and joyous celebration of Diwali by the Hindu faith, this is the time of year we feel a deep need for ritual, tradition, comfort food and family. We sing, we dance, we burn oil lamps and candles – or more likely these days, we plug in multi-strand loops of indoor/outdoor mini lights and self-inflating reindeer.

This need is hardwired.

Which presents us with a problem this year because, in the midst of a global pandemic, all of the things for which we yearn and crave so strongly are off the table.

We want to gather together with those we love most, but unless those people live with us full time it’s not safe. We want to feast together, but masks off for eating isn’t safe either. We want to attend tree lightings downtown, take sleigh rides on farms, attend worship services, meet up with friends, and all of those things pose a danger to our greater community if we do them. Many of us have had our livelihoods and safety nets taken by this pandemic as well.

What are we to do?

Well, as insufficient as I know this will sound, I am suggesting that we all use this moment to take stock of how much we value those things we are giving up this year in order to have future years be a reality. To give thanks for what remains in our lives and to look to our neighbors to make sure what remains for them is enough to carry them through.

I am suggesting this season, we lean into the Hanukkah story, whatever your faith or lack thereof may be, and fully commit to winning this battle, the battle against a deadly virus, so next year, when we have claimed our victory, we can gather together and rededicate the sacred space of our shared community and fellowship with one another. That would be a miracle indeed.