I'm Molly Ephraim and today we'll be reading Hanukkah in Alaska,

by Barbara Brown and Illustrated by Stacey Schuett.

I really love reading, but most of all, I like reading to other people,

people younger than me. So maybe if you have a little brother or a little sister or a little cousin,

or even a younger classmate, try reading to them. It's really fun.

In Alaska, in winter, we have to watch out for moose.

We have to look both ways when we go out the door, making sure there are no moose around.

That's because moose are very big, and they kick things that surprise them or make them angry.

Their big kicks are strong enough to dent a car.

My mother drives slowly in the winter, looking out for moose.

When my friends and I are playing outside

and a moose comes along, we have to hug a tree.

A moose can't step on you or knock you over if you're hugging a tree.

Also, during winter in Alaska, it's dark. Not just at night for sleeping, but almost all the time.

It doesn't get light until it's already snack time at school,

and it's dark again practically right after lunch. Daytime is only five hours long.

And sometimes, when there's so much snow that it covers up the windows,

daylight can barely peek in.

Alaska snow piles up everywhere.

It gets so deep that the moose with their skinny legs have trouble walking in it.

They like to use people's shoveled driveways and paths.

That's why a moose lives in our backyard.

He wandered up our driveway, found a good spot where he could nibble at our trees, and decided to stay.

He sleeps in our yard and eats our trees.

I try throwing carrots to him, even cookies, but he really likes the tree with my blue swing on it.

I'm worried about my swing.

Once, we saw a moose walking around town with a swing in his antlers.

He'd gotten tangled and just tore the whole swing away.

I think the dark and that moose are making me kind of grumpy,

because even Hanukkah hasn't cheered me up.

My friends and I pretend to be dreidels spinning in the snow,

and when the mail lady comes, she always has another present for me from my aunts and uncles Outside.

(Do you know that everywhere else from Alaska is called "Outside"?)

But every time I light a new candle in our menorah,

I look out the window and it's still dark, and that moose is still there, too close

to my swing and eating our trees. My mother and I throw some apples, hoping

he'll like them instead, but he just watches them fall and eats more tree.

One night as I am lighting the last Hanukkah candle, my father says, "Let's go outside.

I have something to show you." "With the moose there?"

"Don't worry, we'll stay far away."

I put on my long underwear and two layers of socks.

I put on my thick, baggy pants... ...and a sweatshirt. I put a snowsuit on over all that,

two layers of mittens, and a hat. Still, it's freezing cold outside, and it's very dark,

and I do not like being anywhere near that moose.

I want that moose away from my swing!

"Dad, what are we waiting for?"

"Just wait. You'll see." But he's looking at the sky. I'm looking at that moose.

Mom says, "Maybe we can try some fresh spinach. Maybe he'll leave your swing alone for something green."

But the spinach doesn't work, and I'm freezing.

Dad says, "This is a perfect night. You'll see."

Suddenly, dad points up to the sky.

There are pink and purple and orange ribbons of light!

The sky is full of color, all swirling and shining and glowing.

Against the dark black of the sky, the lights are bright and beautiful.

I have never seen anything like this.

So much light, and so big. Filling the sky, coloring the sky.

A rainbow on black velvet.

"They're called the northern lights," Dad says.

"Aurora borealis. They happen especially up here in Alaska, but only when the sky is just right.

Our very own Hanukkah Festival of Lights."

It looks like ribbons of wax,

all the candles from all the menorahs, melting into the dark, lighting it up.

I stare at those lights.

I stare so hard, I don't even notice the moose sticking his head through my swing.

Next thing I know, the moose is yanking on the chain,

pulling on the whole tree.

CREAK! CLANK! SNORT! <Audio swinging swing, cracking tree, snorting moose and bellow>

I can't stand it. That moose will tear everything up.

But then I have an idea. I run into the house and run back outside with my hands full.

I wave what I have at the moose, and he sniffs, turning his head away from the swing.

I back up, laying what I have down in the snow. The moose stretches his head, reaches for it.

I keep backing up, laying more down, and the moose follows me!

Out of the yard, down the driveway, AWAY! I lay the last batch down and race back into our yard.

I look at the sky, at the lights. I'm so happy to see those lights. I'm so happy that moose is gone.

My parents are surprised. "What did you feed him?" they ask. "What did he like so much?"

"Latkes," I answer.

Hanukkah can be pretty funny in Alaska,

and miracles can happen in a lot of different ways.

And that's the end.

If you've never had latkes,

you have to try them. They're pancakes, but they're made out of potatoes.

But make sure you have a grown-up to help you out because you have to use very hot oil.

My dad makes them with zucchini, so they are a little healthier. They are really tasty.