Sala, Chanukkah! The first day of Chanukkah. Our dear father kindles the light, he's singing "hanajroys haluli", while crying all the time. Oh, Sala, you know, he would like to see his children together; and we, our dear mother, I and Blima and even the lights weren't exactly cheerful either. Our dear father looks at the clock, yes, it's possible to write already and so I'm writing. Now Salu, what's new with you, are you well, are you still working? I even didn't want to write because we all reckoned that you would come on vacation. Or isn't that so? Or maybe you want to surprise us, that would be very nice. Shall we not believe in that? Why? Maybe they told the truth, but when will the time come when we see you again? Don't be angry that we didn't send you what you wanted. We can only send something once a month, not when we want to and thus we're excused. Meanwhile, we hope to hear good news from you. Here, it's as usual, nothing special. We are, thank God, well. There was a big wedding here, to which I wasn't invited. Does Ala write and what does she say? I'm closing now with warmest regards and kisses from our dear parents and all of us; regards from Laya Dina, husband and children.