Purim - Just be Happy

It is a cold night, and the Jews in a small villiage in Eastern Europe are gathered around a festive table. The glass and earthenware on the table are something special, not worn from daily use. As the rich Jewish nobleman is about to address his guests, the doors open with a bang. The queen's messengers have just come to warn of a terrible decree: a neighboring country is preparing for war. Requesting for something to be done, she desperately turns to those who may have some sort of spiritual power. In response this man orders the servers to bring all the alchohol to the table. They drink until it is finished, singing and dancing in great joy. Anyone who has ever heard a Jewish folk story before already knows the ending, the day was saved, yadda yadda. I don't mean to downplay the success, as I find it no less than miraculous for such a thing to happen. But really, drinking and dancing did that? My gut reaction is yes, yes it did. I have noticed nothing short of miracles in my life as soon as I was able to open my eyes to the good that was around me. But I guess for me being happy has always meant snuggling with a good book or getting dirty in the forest. This purim there was definently not any books or forests in my forecast, so I made due with what was available. I walked along pave streets, site-seeing the little kiddos in costumes. Fairly disillusioned about this aspect, I kind of have to keep from snarling. I dislike when Jewish holidays are downgraded to American popular culture in the same way I used to dislike American popular culture. But it is still fun to see an entire country celebrate together a holiday not even on the calendar in America. Visiting my chesed family while giving out Shalach Manos (Gifts of Food to friends, one of the special mitzvos of the day), I realized that this day had less to do with finding my happiness than sprouting it in others.