How joyous these special days of Hanukkah were, and still are, to me. It meant getting together with my cousins who lived next door to me, in our large, brick apartment house. I’ll always remember singing songs, lighting the Hanukkah menorah, smelling delicious aromas drifting from many kitchens while potato latkes (pancakes) were being fried, receiving Hanukkah gelt (money), and playing the dreidel (spinning top) game.

Once again in my memory, I see myself adding coins to my growing collection of shiny, beautifully engraved silver dollars. How I treasured them! Their beauty and magnificence of design never bored me, as I turned them over, examining dates and sculpted figures.

But, yes! My cousins had something I didn’t have. They had a real, live zayda (grandfather). He was the zayda yo

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