One of the more interesting customs relating to Chanukah is that of a relaxation of the restriction against gambling. As Menachem Mendel has pointed out, this relaxation was not limited, as some think, to those of Hassidic decent. Rather, some of the earliest mentions come long before the creation of the Hassidic movement, in places such as Worms and Frankfort. Further, this custom has continued to be almost universal (amongst Ashkenazim) irrespective of origin.

To demonstrate this point, it is worth mentioning a lesser known book, which although lesser known is rich in the history of customs of Lithuanian Jews during the 19th century. This book, Rememberings: The World of a Russian-Jewish Woman in the Nineteenth Century, (which I have previously mentioned at the Seforim blog) is the memoir of Pauline Wengeroff. She grew up in Lithuania and eventually moved to St. Petersburg Russia (along with many detours). Her book, originally written in Yiddish, was translated into English (and abridged, you can download the full translation here).

In the course of discussing how she celebrated the Jewish holidays as a child she discusses card playing.

“On the fifth night [of Chanukah] my mother invited all our friends and relatives. That was the night she gave us Chanukah gelt . . . You stayed up later than usual that evening, and played cards longer. . . . It was a day of rejoicing for us children. Even we little ones were allowed to play cards that night. . . . On such evenings my father skipped even learning Talmud and sat down to cards although, like my mother, he had no idea of the rules of any game.”

She is not the only Lithuanian to record such a practice. R. Yosef Hayyim Sonnenfeld, the Rabbi of Jerusalem and the leader (of his time) of the Yishuv haYashan was asked why do so many people, some of which spend their days learning Torah, neglect Torah study and play cards on Chanukah? R. Sonnenfeld responded that not everyone can learn all the time and people need a break and playing cards is better than doing nothing. The questioner, however, was unsatisfied with this response, and questioned the notion that card playing could be considered a legitimate necessary break. The questioner allowed that exercise would be allowed but couldn’t understand how card playing could be considered an allowed break from Torah study. R. Sonnenfeld refused to back down regarding his original pronouncement and said, while some at some times may value exercise at other times people have other needs which apparently cards fulfill.

Sources: Rememberings: The World of a Russian-Jewish Woman in the Nineteenth Century, pp. 65-66; R. Yosef Hayyim Sonnenfeld, Simlat Hayyim, nos. 48-49; for more on the custom of dreidel see my post from last year here.

There is an excellent book in which a women describes growing up in Lithuana in the early and mid 1800’s. This book, Rememberings, originally written in German, has recently been translated into English. The author, Pauline Wengeroff, grew up in a traditional Orthodox home. She records a terrific amout of customs and how life was then. Eventually, due in part to the influence of the haskalah she, her husband and her family did not remain Orthodox. The book was fully translated and the complete unedited version is available online for free here (although there seems to be issues with the first part) or you can purchase a more readable version here.

There is a terrific story relating to Yom Kippur and how, perhaps, some customs get started.

In Europe, it was somewhat common to have what was known as a zoger (a man) or zogerkes (a woman). This, literaly translated, means a sayer or repeater. This person served to allow women who otherwise could not read to be able to recite the proper prayers. The zoger would say the prayer and this was then repeated. When it was a man doing this, he had to crawl into a barrel which was put in the women’s section.

With this background we can now move to the story as recorded by Pauline Wengeroff.

“On Yom Kippur the zogerke was supposed to recite the paryer in a tearful voice.” The butcher’s wife was hard of hearing so “she begged the zogerke to pray a little louder: she’d give her an extra large liver from the shop if she [the zogerke] would do it for her. The zogerke answered in her weepeing prayer voice, weaving her reply into the recitiation: ‘The same with the liver, the same without the liver.’ A moment later the men were startled to hear the entire women’s gallery sob aloud in a full voice: ‘The same with the liver, the same without the liver.'”

The story continues when one of the women were leaving Shul and another was entering. The one coming in asked what they were up to, to which she got the reply

“Nu, the prayer about the liver.” “Liver? Last year we didn’t say anything like that!” “Today, efsher (maybe), because it’s a leap year . . .”