One of my grown-up Hanukkah wishes came true in Norfolk

This article was featured in the Opinion section of the December 17, 2024 edition of the Virginian-Pilot & Daily Press

By Naomi Limor Sedek


As Hanukkah's lights fade, I reflect on a wish I didn't know I had — a wish for hope and unity in my community. This year, as we lit our menorahs in Hampton Roads, the candles seemed to burn a little brighter, fueled by an unexpected outpouring of support and acceptance. Living in Hampton Roads, a region deeply rooted in military values, our Hanukkah celebration was unique. With recent terrorist attacks in Israel and the rise of antisemitism globally, our decision to participate in Norfolk’s Grand Illumination Parade was mixed with fear and hope.

Current events in Israel and across the globe, cast a shadow, evoking our fear and apprehension. As Jewish volunteers who willingly agreed to participate, we knew the importance of showing up and being seen and heard, especially when our very existence seemed to be questioned. But we feared our celebration could be misconstrued as insensitivity to the prevailing turmoil.

Yet, there was also a sense of hope. Hanukkah, after all, is about the victory of light over darkness. We, a small group of volunteers from diverse backgrounds, came together to walk with the Hanukkah float and share our menorah's light in a public spectacle.

As we marched in the parade, surrounded by armed guards — a sobering reminder of the threats we face — I realized that this was more than a parade. It was a statement of our existence, rights and place in Hampton Roads. The presence of the guards, rather than being a symbol of fear, transformed into a testament to our community's commitment to protect its diverse constituents.

The response from the crowd was nothing short of welcoming. Echoing through the streets of downtown Norfolk were shouts of "Happy Hanukkah," not from fellow Jews but from our neighbors, friends and strangers — a chorus of different voices unified in their support for us. This was the moment my Hanukkah wish materialized — not just in the flickering of candles but in the warmth of acceptance and unity from those around us.

This experience was a powerful reminder that there can be light even in darkness. In our case, that light was the love and acceptance of the parade participants and spectators. It was a vivid demonstration that our community stands united in its diversity and strength, even amidst global unrest and local apprehensions.

The parade was also a personal journey for me. I confronted my fears and apprehensions and found them replaced with an overwhelming sense of pride and belonging. It was heartening to see that in Hampton Roads, amidst the challenges of being a minority, our voices were not just heard but celebrated.

As I walked alongside the Hanukkah float, my thoughts were with the hostages being held by Hamas. My ultimate Hanukkah wish was for their safe return. This reality casts a shadow over our celebrations. Even as we felt the warmth and acceptance of our local community in Hampton Roads, our efforts and prayers and my ultimate Hanukkah wish, still unfulfilled, is that these individuals will be reunited with their families. If not now … maybe Christmas.

The unity and support we experienced in the parade are signs of hope in a world increasingly torn by divisions. They remind us that while we cannot control the actions of a few who are intent on spreading hate, we can create an environment of mutual respect and understanding together.

As Hanukkah ends and we put away our menorahs, the light from this festival lingers in the form of these newfound bonds and strengthened community ties. My grown-up Hanukkah wish wasn't for presents or miracles but for acceptance, understanding and unity. That wish came true in the streets of Norfolk, surrounded by my community.
In the end, the Festival of Lights lived up to its promise, not just in our homes but in the very streets of our city. It brought to life the enduring message of Hanukkah — in darkness, there is always a potential for light, and in fear, the possibility of hope.

Naomi Limor Sedek of Virginia Beach is president and CEO of the Tidewater Jewish Foundation.