Celebrating Purim As A Young Jewish Woman
By Erin Deborah Waks
don’t often write about specific religious observances I follow but, when a Jewish festival basically mandates donating to charity, giving food to friends and enjoying a celebratory feast, it’s hard not to get excited about it.
Every year on the 14th of the Hebrew month of Adar – this year the 13th March – Jewish people worldwide commemorate our ancestors being saved in the ancient Persian empire from Haman’s plot ‘to destroy, kill and annihilate all the Jews, young and old, infants and women, in a single day.’ In a nutshell, Mordechai, the leader of the Jews at the time, in collaboration with King Ahasuerus’s new queen Esther – also Jewish – protected their people from the Jew-hating Haman.
It is, as far as Jewish festivals go, one filled with an extraordinary amount of tradition and fun, given it all stems from near-destruction of our people. But, in the fashion my religion does so well, the festival chooses to celebrate and revere our resilience, strength and dedication to survival instead of focusing on the seemingly endless waves of hate and religious persecution it undergoes.
As a result of the events that took place in the Persian Empire of the 4th century BCE, we today mark the occasion with a plethora of joyous, almost childlike in their fun, activities. When I was a child, I most loved the fancy dress parties encouraged by the day. There are several explanations for this, however my favourite – because of how literary it seems in its significance – is that the custom of wearing costumes on Purim is an allusion to the hidden (or ‘dressed up’) miracle that took place, the salvation of the Jewish people, where the details of the story are really miracles hidden within natural events.
But as I get older, as much as I do love fancy dress, I’ve found myself reconsidering how I live my religion on my own terms. I chose to go to work on this day, whereas as a child I would have had the day off from school. I chose to wear normal work clothes, not really interested in waltzing into the busy newsroom where I spend my days in a fairy princess outfit.
So what could I do to mark the occasion? Or, rather, what did I want to do? How could I maintain the values and message of the festival within my own mix of modern and traditional lifestyle?
Purim observances are fourfold. The first ‘obligation’ is to partake in the reading of the Megillah (book of Esther), which recounts the story of the Purim miracle. This is normally done once on the eve of Purim and then again on the following day. I didn’t know if I’d be able to do so twice, but will certainly endeavour to listen one time around. If not, I found that discussing the story with my pals – and believe me, more people will find the historical tale more interesting than you think – would suffice for now.
The second thing is to give money gifts to at least two poor people. Being in the financial position to do so, I found this an easy one. Charity aligns with my personal values, religious or otherwise, and I make regular donations to my chosen organisations, but making a concerted effort to help two more people on this day felt easy and, more significantly, important.
The third task is to send gifts of two kinds of food to at least one person. Blessed with above-average baking skills and an innate adoration for seeing one of my loved one’s eyes light up when faced with a gift, this also felt like a necessary observation to slot into my day. Rest assured, my best friend and family reaped the benefits.
And finally, as with most Jewish festivals, it is suggested one partake in a festive Purim feast. I hopped on a train back to mum’s house, eagerly anticipating her infamous apricot lamb stew. Enough said.
