AUGUST 8 • 2024 | 21
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aureen Schiffman 
of Novi loves the 
candles at Chanukah. 
Half a dozen years ago, she 
recalls, she felt sad as she lit 
for the last night, her menorah 
illuminated in the window. 
 She thought of the story, 
how a small group of men were 
able to ward off an army and 
save the Jewish people. And 
to celebrate that, she started 
lighting Shabbat candles. Then 
she made a challah cover, got 
her son’s Kiddush cup from his 
bar mitzvah, pulled out candle 
holders that had belonged to 
her grandmother, and made 
Shabbat a more active part of 
her life.
“I started doing the prayers 
— I took a book from Adat 
Shalom and started singing 
more of the songs out of the 

book. Between my husband 
and me and my cat and my 
dog, we all enjoyed doing that,” 
she says. 
Formerly a music teacher at 
Temple Emanuel’s preschool, 
she knows the blessings well, 
she says. “I recorded a song and 
I put it on as I’m getting the 
challah ready, and the wine; the 
cat and dog hear that song and 
they know they’re going to get 
challah, so they join us in the 
living room.”
After making Shabbat 
blessings, Schiffman says, 
she goes to her den and 
looks at the wall filled with 
pictures of her relatives who 
are no longer alive, greeting 
them, remembering them 
and reflecting on their 
accomplishments. “I say ‘good 
Shabbos’
,” she says, adding 

that it gives her a sense of 
closeness with them, and that 
she updates the list with the 
names of others who pass away, 
as well as those who she hears 
did good things for the Jewish 
people. 
“I go through the whole wall 
— there’s relatives and friends 
that I’ve lost — and by doing 
that, I feel like they’re looking 
at me. I’m saying their names. 
I’m feeling they’re there and 
enjoying the same thing I’m 
enjoying.” 
To round out her ritual, she 
says, she honors the memory 
of a 12-year-old from Paris 
who perished in the Holocaust, 
whose picture she has on the 
wall as part of an initiative to 
remember the children who 
died. “Then when I’m done, I 
just feel like this was a really 
nice session, everybody enjoyed 
it, and that’s Shabbat for me.”
She and her husband then 
head out to dinner in Walled 

Lake, where they eat at the 
same restaurant every week. 
“It’s a real nice way to end the 
Shabbos.” 
Schiffman’s family has strong 
ties to Metro Detroit’s Jewish 
community — her parents 
were founders of Beth Shalom, 
part of the original group that 
would meet at people’s homes, 
including hers, as they readied 
the money to start the building 
in Oak Park, she says. 
Every Shabbos she also calls 
her aunt, who’s 89 and lives in 
New Jersey. “It’s a very special 
part of my Shabbos to talk to 
her. She’s my oldest living rela-
tive, my dad’s sister,” she says. 
Back at her house, as she 
leaves the den filled with 
pictures, she says she has a 
sense that everyone she spoke 
to heard her wishes of good 
Shabbos, and that made her feel 
that Shabbos was complete. “In 
this way,” she says, “I feel like I 
keep their light alive.” 

Shabbat ritual keeps lost friends 
and family close at heart.

Keeping Their 
Light Alive

KAREN SCHWARTZ CONTRIBUTING WRITER

CELEBRATING SHABBAT

Maureen Schiffman says 
good Shabbos to her 
friends and relatives who 
have passed.

After the Shabbat candles 
are lit, Maureen and Lenny 
Schiffman enjoy dinner at 
their favorite restaurant.