Recently I had a teaching experience at a school where I have taught for the past 12 years, including as a head teacher and interim director. This experience that I was teaching was a multi-sensory approach to Havdalah. I brought several different kinds of Besamim, a sweet-smelling mixture of Cinnamon, Cloves, Star of Anise, Cardamom, & Persian Lime. One of my procurements was a bottle of essence of elderflower that the kids thought smelled sweet from afar and gross up close. I also brought an orange that I had covered with cloves and aromatic branches and cut flowers, a Sephardi and Mizrahi minhag, or custom, to symbolize the sweetness of Shabbat that we want to take with us into the following week.

I love these close interactions with young minds and rituals. Through sharing my love of all things, I hope that the students share a fraction of my excitement. So when the younger classes took to the rituals surrounding Havdalah, I felt a little twinge of “Yes!” I invited them to do the practice as a compliment to Shabbat that evening. I hope they did as I left them with the idea that they could do it until Tuesday (Shulchan Arukh, Orach Chayim 299).

This is why I teach. I don’t always turn off teaching mode, which can sometimes get me in trouble, especially when someone asks about Judaism. I often turn into a professor illuminating whatever item was asked about, sometimes with a bit of humor, but always with wide-eyed curiosity. After class, we shared some of our explorations, and their comments did not disappoint.

During the four classes which I led, I started by asking what they knew already about Havdalah. Unsurprisingly, many students had no working knowledge of the ritual or the multi-sensory aspects of the bookend. There is much to unpack about our families not exploring the tradition with their children. Many of us do Shabbat, and that is awesome. But if we want to set aside Shabbat from the rest of the week, we need to bookend it with Havdalah.
Our rabbis teach that on Shabbat; we are given an extra soul. At Havdalah, we relinquish that extra soul but hope that the sweetness and holiness of the day will remain with us during the week.

I laid out all that they would need for Havdalah: A cup of grape juice or wine Pleasant-smelling spices or sweet-smelling branches A multi-wick candle or candles stuck together to make multiple wicks And 3 Stars in the sky I asked them who wanted to help me by being stars, and they didn’t disappoint. Everyone wanted to be a star, from the youngest 1st grader to the oldest 12-year-old. I began by asking them to shine and their brightness was blinding. 1…, 2…, 3…, and through the magic of those stars, it was time.

First, I introduced the melody that Debbie Friedman (z”l) brought us. I explained that Debbie Friedman’s version of Havdalah is “the world’s official Havdalah” because it is sung in every corner of the world. Jews of all stripes mark the end of Shabbat with this melody. I introduced the Niggun and began to sing lai, lai, lai, lai, lai,… and as each item was mentioned, I made each item available to the group as we talked about them.

We started with a blessing over grape juice and continued with the pleasant-smelling spices, besamim, from our spice racks, potpourri from our gardens, and sweet-smelling fruit from our trees dotted with cloves. In many Sephardi and Mizrahi communities, branches of aromatic plants are used for their smell. I brought many different spices, one from my home spice rack, one from Elderflower liquid, and one from the synagogue.

I asked the class what could smell sweet enough to carry one through the week. Answers abounded, but the scent of chocolate chip cookies was a good one. We blessed, smelled, passed around, and inhaled the aroma deeply. We blessed the light and the flame and held our hands near the candle. We turned our palms up and curled our fingers. And asked why they thought that we watched the lights play over our curled fingers.

One way our rabbis taught is that looking at one’s fingernails, a part of the body that is continually growing is a sign of growth and prosperity in the coming week. One way is that we are creating shadows with light as our first act of creation, which is forbidden during Shabbat is now allowed at Havdalah. Being Reform and teaching at a Reform Hebrew School allowed me some leeway with the fire.

After touching base with my director, I was allowed to light the candle wicks at the end of class to experience the full breadth of Havdallah. We had already suspended time with our shining stars, so we got to work with finding those that wanted to hold the candles, many of which were, and I am happy that I brought multiple candles. Some of the students were a little afraid of fire alarms, so we kept it brief.

Once we said the blessings over the light and separation in quick succession, we sang Eliyahu HaNavi while we slowly put out the fire in the juice to have the auditory sensation or the “sizzle” sound. Some students said the more prominent the sound, their week would be better. I asked where they had heard that, and some didn’t know, but others said their parents had said so. So we got full circle, from saying that the students didn’t remember ever doing the ritual to placing they had.

With each class progression, we sang the niggun, blessed the juice, the lights of the candle, and the Havdalah. In the 30-minute windows, we delved into so much and tried to hold onto that space and time amid those shining stars. What started as a multi-sensory exploration of the ritual had become more profound.

Not only were my students learning, but they were reviving memories of times they had done this ritual before. How they had in the past used the niggun, dipped their fingers into the juice, smelled the sweet spices, and lit the candle flames. I hope they will keep exploring with their families and build new memories in the future.

This is where the rubber meets the road when it comes to Reformadox life. The idea of being On the Derech grew out of these places where traditional observance and modernity meet. If I hadn’t had permission from my director, I might never have even thought about lighting the candle, but the conditional space and time or the three sparkly paper stars and the finite time in which I was able to impart the ritual to the small groups of students made it all the more special a thing to do in that particular time frame. Lighting a fire on Shabbat became a sacred act in my mind. In that way, the students learned about minhag and rituals in a non-traditional way.

Havdalah made easy by 18 Doors: This booklet is one of a series originally created by Karen Kushner