Either the Lord works in mysterious ways or I have no luck, no luck at all, but I�m inclined to accept the former explanation. You see, I�ve been gambling for the Lord all evening�and I�ve been winning.

Perhaps I should explain. Tonight is the first night of Chanukah. One of the traditions of Chanukah is to take a top, called a dreidl (or, in Hebrew, a sivivon), and play a game with it. The top has four sides, each marked with a Hebrew letter. The letters stand for the initials of the Hebrew words for �a great miracle happened there.� They each also have a value in a gambling game that we play for pennies although others play for M&Ms, nuts, or other small tokens. One letter means that you must put in an extra penny, one gets you nothing, one gets you half the pot, and one gets you the whole pot.

I hate games of chance. I find them boring and mindless. Dreidl is no exception. And so our holiday tradition has become play dreidl, laugh, and listen to Mom complain that she dislikes dreidl. Usually the family doesn�t listen to me for long. I manage to fulfill my obligation by losing quickly and then just have to fend off solicitous children who try to loan me pennies. Then I�ve completed my religious obligation and I can just watch.

This year, however, no matter what I did, I could not lose. My inability to lose could have ended the game fairly quickly if I just had become hard-hearted and wiped everyone out fast but they actually like to play so I gave in to puppy-dog eyes (particularly those baby blues of Mr. Philately) and bankrolled Kat and Mr. Philately. Just as I thought I could go out with kindness, one of them would hit it big for just a moment and pay me back.

It was as though God were looking down and laughing at me. �You. You there. You hate this game. You don�t want to participate in My fine traditions happily. Fine. Fine. You�ll participate all right. I�ll use your kindnesses against you. You�re in this one for the long haul. Take that!�

And so, I did what I had to do. I buckled down and gambled for the Lord full out. No holds barred. Forget compassion. I became a warrior. I wiped them all out. It took me 45 minutes of twirling that little wooden top but I did it, I won, and then I could quit.

And I can�t even say the devil made me do it.

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