Although the Thanksgiving meal usually just involves me in the kitchen preparing the turkey, stuffing, gravy, vegetables, rolls and pies, the Hanukkah meal has always involved my children. Besides helping me peel the potatoes for the latkes or spinning the cooked apples through the food mill for homemade applesauce, my children and I traditionally spend part of the day making Hanukkah cookies.

Years ago my mother gave me a set of cookie cutters representing various symbols and holidays in the Jewish religion. There is a menorah, the symbolical candelabra lit during the eight nights of Hanukkah. There is a dreidel, a spinning top, which is part of a traditional Hanukkah game. There is also the Star of David, which symbolizes Judaism, as the cross symbolizes Christianity. And the set includes a lion, the symbol of Judah, the ancient name for Jerusalem. There is also a cookie cutter in the shape of a lighted candle, symbolic of the Sabbath.

Every year my children and I make orange-flavored sugar cookies with these symbols of our heritage. As we roll the dough and press the shapes, we talk about the importance of each symbol. We discuss the holiday, laugh and share a rare time that puts all of us completely in the moment.

Even after years of performing the same ritual, my children and I still take delight in creating these perfectly shaped cookies, and sigh when the cookie cutter doesn't lift out completely and we have to re-roll the dough and start again. The fact that we've been performing this cookie-making routine for more than a decade is the reason it's so comforting.

And it's these simple comforts that now more than ever seem so important and necessary in our lives.

The simplicity of making cookies in my kitchen with my children and taking pleasure in the moment is a reason to be thankful. Being able to celebrate my holiday without the threat of persecution is another reason to be thankful. To choose whom I want to spend the holidays with, to freely visit them and return home without concern for my family's well-being is another reason to be thankful.

This year in particular we should stop and think about all the things we do and all the things we take for granted when so many parts of the world are at war or on the brink of war. We are lucky to live in a community and country that cares about its citizens.

And I sense this good fortune more during this holiday season than in recent years. Perhaps it is because I work full time and cherish my extra time with my husband and children. Perhaps it's because the world seems to be in such disarray, and it makes me want to hug my family and stay close to home. Perhaps it's because I have family living in Israel, and every time I hear about another suicide bomb my worries grow. Or perhaps it's all these thoughts combined.

I think the coincidence of having Thanksgiving and Hanukkah fall side by side this year was a blessing in disguise. It gave me an extra dose of family time and a unique blend of cultural traditions.

We celebrated everything American and reminded ourselves how fortunate we are to live in the United States. And we celebrated our religious heritage and enjoyed its traditions while discussing how fortunate we were to celebrate our beliefs openly. This turkey­latke mix had a real international flavor, and it gave me a double dose of appreciation.

So although the holiday season arrived like a storm, it lingers like a rainbow, which is exactly what the menorahs in my home look like when lit on the eighth night. The kitchen window glows with a spectrum of candlelight that picks up the colors of the red, yellow, blue, green, orange, pink and white.

Moryt Milo is the editor of The Willow Glen Resident. She can be contacted at 400.200.1051 or mmilo@svcn.com.