Coral lit the first night’s candle for Hanukkah on the Graf family’s menorah. She placed the menorah in the window for everyone in the neighborhood to see. She knew that over the eight nights of Hanukkah that the candles were placed from right to left, but they were lit from left to right. She felt happy when she lit the candles and chanted the prayers for the Festival of Lights. It seemed like such a hopeful time where anything good was possible.
“Why doesn’t The Man Across the Street have the Hanukkah candles burning in his window?” Coral Graf asked her dad. She knew he was Jewish and attended the local synagogue. He usually burned the candles every year. He wouldn’t miss a special holiday like Hanukkah. She thought something must be wrong and wondered what it could be.
She sat with her feet propped up on a family bookshelf and ate her third sufganiyot, deep-fried jelly doughnuts from her father’s deli. They were a special treat during the holidays.
“Doesn’t The Man Across the Street celebrate miracles anymore?” Coral said, as she watched him from her Upper East Side New York City apartment.
She played with her hand-painted set of dreidels. Then, she turned to her father and said: “Thanks, I like my Hanukkah gift, Dad.”
Through the family binoculars, she watched her neighbor eat rice and beans without any pastries for dessert. When she wanted to know what was going on in the neighborhood, the binoculars were her second eyes. She knew it wasn’t always nice to spy on people, but sometimes she had to know who needed her help.
“The Man Upstairs would probably want us to help him with the rent,” Mr. Graf said to his nine-year-old daughter. “I feel like he might be behind in paying it. Your coins could be like a special Hanukkah gift. I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”
“Everyone knows the miracle of Hanukkah! The oil burned for eight days. Maybe he needs extra money for candles, too. Tomorrow, I will take him coins from The Man Upstairs so he can light a menorah for the holiday,” Coral said.
“Honey, that’s very thoughtful,” Mrs. Graf said. She gave her daughter a big hug.
Coral grabbed the tin can from beneath the heating vent in the apartment and counted the latest coins dropped by The Man Upstairs. A large number of dollar coins had dropped into the can. She wondered if The Man Upstairs knew that The Man Across the Street needed rent money. Usually, he didn’t drop as many big coins at once.
“If the oil could keep burning at Hanukkah, then there will be a miracle for him, too, so he has enough money to pay the rent,” Coral said.
She placed the coins from the tin can into Puddles, her porcelain pink piggy bank, where she saved the pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters, half dollars, and dollar coins from The Man Upstairs. He had been dropping pennies for so long that Coral got used to his generosity.
“Just make sure to watch out for the landlord,” Coral’s mom said. “He smokes a nasty cigar, and it will make you sneeze.”
Of course, The Man Upstairs knew that Coral had promised to give her coins away to help others. Coral thought he was a private man and didn’t feel comfortable letting other people know that he had a lot of money. So, he must have decided that she was the best person to share his wealth. In the morning, Coral went by her dad’s deli and bought a box of double chocolate glazed doughnut holes. She took Puddles and her tin can with coins with her under her arm.
She grabbed a couple extra breakfast treats from the glass display in the front of the deli and shoved them in her pockets. Then, she walked over to the apartment building of The Man Across the Street and rang his buzzer. Instead of talking through the speaker, he opened the window and called to Coral: “Come on up, kid!”
He buzzed her through the door, and she walked up the stairs to his 10th floor apartment with Puddles and her tin can full of coins. When she got to the door, she knocked while she finished eating a pumpkin pie rugelach and Hanukkah marshmallow dreidels.
“Just thought I would stop by for a visit,” Coral said, as The Man Across the Street opened the door. “Happy Hanukkah!”
“Where are your parents, kid?” The Man Across the Street said. He looked over her shoulder for Mr. and Mrs. Graf. “I haven’t been over to your dad’s deli in a while.”
“Even if it’s Hanukkah, they’re still at work. I’m off from school,” Coral said. She handed him the box of doughnut holes. “I wanted to give you my coins from The Man Upstairs so that you could buy candles to burn. Where’s your menorah?”
“Thanks, kid,” he said. He got a little teary-eyed. Then, he took his menorah from a box in the closet and set it on the table. “What I really need is the rent!”
“There are still seven nights left of Hanukkah,” Coral said to The Man Across the Street. “I’m sure there’s going to be a miracle.”
“I haven’t had money to pay rent for months,” he said to her with a sigh. “The landlord is furious at me, and I’m afraid that he’s going to evict me.”
“Well, I definitely have enough money in my tin can for candles. And you have a menorah . . . Maybe if we burn the menorah in the window, the landlord will see the miracle of the light, and the rent will get paid,” Coral said, as she schemed in her head.
“Sure, kid, whatever you think,” The Man Across the Street said. “Let’s go get some candles at the Dollar Store.”
As Coral and The Man Across the Street walked down the stairs, the landlord happened to be walking up the stairs while he smoked his cigar.
“Gross!” Coral said. She sneezed and wheezed. “It’s sure smoke up my nose . . .”
When Coral and the landlord met face to face, she wished that she had enough money for the current and back rent between Puddles and her tin can. The only thing she could think to do was threaten him with the idea of Hanukkah miracles.
“We’re going to the Dollar Store and buying candles with the coins from The Man Upstairs to celebrate Hanukkah,” she explained. “Miracles happen every year around this time!”
“Good for you. Don’t you live across the street? Go back over there!” he said as he lit another cigar. He blew the smoke in Coral’s face, and she coughed.
“You should only ever light candles, not cigars,” Coral said.
“Your rent is due. It’s way late. Pay up,” the landlord said to The Man Across the Street. “And you owe me two cigars.”
“Don’t you know about Hanukkah? The oil didn’t run out. The rent will get paid,” Coral said. She held her nose in protest.
“Let’s go, kid,” The Man Across the Street said. He nudged Coral down the steps. “Don’t say another word.”
When Coral and The Man Across the Street got to the Dollar Store, Coral bought a box of blue Hanukkah candles. The duo walked back to the apartment building and hustled to avoid the landlord. The coins in Puddles and her tin can clinked and clanked as she walked up the stairs.
“Happy Hanukkah,” The Man Across the Street said, as he set up his menorah in the window. “Tonight, I will light the candles and expect miracles. Thanks, kid.”
“I’m leaving the rest of my coins for you,” Coral said. She dumped them next to the menorah. “I don’t know how much you owe the landlord, but this is a good beginning. There are a lot of dollar coins in there. I’m hoping for a miracle that all your rent will be paid.”
The Man Across the Street hugged Coral, and she thought he seemed relieved.
After dinner that night, Mr. Graf chanted the Hanukkah prayers while lighting the candles in their window.
“Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, Who has kept us in life, sustained us, and brought us to this moment,” he sang in Hebrew, while Coral watched The Man Across the Street light his own Hanukkah candles.
“So touching!” Mr. Graf said. He waved to The Man Across the Street and grinned.
“How lovely,” Mrs. Graf said, as she smiled at their neighbor in his window. “Our deli is doing exceptionally well. Do you think we should help him out with the rent?”
“I think he might need several months of rent, Dad,” Coral said. “I gave him all my coins. It was everything that I had.”
Just as Coral said that a flood of dollar coins fell from the heating vent into the tin can from The Man Upstairs. Coral had never seen so many dollar coins fall at once. She wondered if it would be enough to pay the entire rent bill.
“It’s a miracle!” she said. Her heart welled-up in her throat.
“Tomorrow morning, we will go over to speak to The Man Across the Street,” Mr. Graf said to Coral. “We will see if there are enough dollar coins from The Man Upstairs to pay his rent bill, and if not, we will see what we can do to help him out.”
“The rent is getting paid!” Coral said. With that, she watched more coins drop from the apartment’s heating vent into her tin can. “It’s the miracle of Hanukkah. The oil never runs out! Just like the coins from The Man Upstairs keep overflowing.”
Copyright 2015 Jennifer Waters
Sequel to "The Man Upstairs: The Story of Coral Graf and Coins from a Tin Can" (1/3/15), "The Man Downstairs: The Story of Coral Graf and Her Missing Coins" (7/13/15), and "The Man Next Door: The Story of Coral Graf and the Neighborhood Coins" (8/5/15).
Dedicated to my grandmother, Augusta Renner Graf Waters.
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