First of all, the people were celebrating Yule throughout Europe in the
Roman empire.
But here's some facts about the absurd idea of a Hanukkah bush in Germany.
I doubt you can post any documentation supporting your statement.
http://www.thejewishweek.com/features/first-person/no-such-thing-chanukah-bush
'No Such Thing As A Chanukah Bush'
12/17/12
Ellen Schecter
Special To The Jewish Week
We're the only Jews in Pennypack Woods, Pa. We exchange gifts on Christmas with our neighbors and each other, but have never had decorations that look or smell like Christmas.
Except once -- when I'm 5.
"Can we please, please have a Christmas tree, Mommy?" I sob. "I'm the only one in our whole neighborhood without Christmas and I feel so left out. We don't have any holiday, and Christmas is so beautiful."
My parents finally exchange that look.
"OK, we'll have a tree -- a Chanukah bush. And Nana and Poppop must never know."
"Oh, thank you, thank you, I'll never tell, never." When I hug her, she's stiff and her heart's beating fast.
That night, my father brings home a fluffy tree and sets it up in our living room. He uses cardboard, scissors and tin foil to make a shiny six-pointed star for the top. "It's a Star of David, a Jewish star." I have no idea what he means.
My mother and I string popcorn and cranberry chains for trimming. I prick my fingers so often they start to bleed, but I don't complain: we have a tree -- a real tree. Strand by strand, we add tinsel, then stand back to admire our creation with sheepish satisfaction.
"What about colored lights? Or candles?" I ask. I've studied Christmas trees in people's windows, and in magazines and Coca Cola ads.
"Do you want to burn down the house?" My mother says, grabbing my arm. "Remember, my father will never forgive me if he even suspects we did this for you. Understand?"
"Yes."
I try to be happy about my sparkly Chanukah bush, but I feel uneasy: I thought it would turn us into a happy family, like the ones on Christmas cards. Instead, we're still ourselves: a little happy, and kind of sad and worried. And my tree is becoming a magnet for guilt: a reminder of my selfishness.
On Sunday afternoon, the worst happens. A peek through the upstairs curtains reveals Poppop's shiny gray Chrysler unexpectedly pulling up outside. He paces impatiently on our doorstep, waiting for an answer to his loud knocks.
"Oh, my God," my mother moans, her face white as our walls.
"Pearl, keep them busy at the front door," my father says. "Ellen, help me."
We clatter downstairs. Daddy quickly drags the tree outside where we burn trash. "Ellen, quick! Brush away tinsel, the pine needles."
I pause to rescue the tinfoil star on the ground and hide it inside my flannel shirt. I race inside, trying to pick up hundreds of bits of tinsel and fragrant pine needles. It's hopeless: the smell of evergreen would reveal our secret even to the blind.
My muscular grandfather walks into the living room. "What did you do?" he rages at my mother. She shrinks before him like a child. My beautiful Nana hides behind her, wringing her hands, muttering in Yiddish. Poppop puffs up with rage.
"It was a Chanukah bush. We did it for Ellen," my mother whispers. "She was jealous of the other children. I hated to see her suffer, so..."
"She's jealous? She's suffering? There's no such thing as a Chanukah bush. You just confuse the child. She's a Jew and Jews don't have Christmas. Make her Chanukah like a real Jewish mother, and she won't be jealous."
"It had a Jewish star on top," I say, holding it out.
"Puh," proclaims my grandfather, practically dancing with rage, "meshugenah."
My father enters the kitchen, bringing a whiff of smoke. I know our tree is now burning like any other trash.
"That's why we came today, to bring Chanukah," Nana says timidly, still behind my mother. We brought Chanukah presents for everybody." She shows us her bulging carryall. "Maybe we can have tea, and the cookies I baked."
"No tea, no cookies, Sarah. We leave now. Get into the machine." He grabs the bag from her. "And we don't leave no presents, not one."
"Ben, how about a little schnapps first?" my father asks, but Poppop pulls Nana toward the door.
"Puh! We don't eat in no house with no Chanukah bush. Doesn't even keep kosher."
He spits the words at my mother, then walks out the door, Nana waddling after him. I know Poppop will beat her with his belt because of my tree when they get home, just the way he used to beat my mother when she was a little girl.
I watch her pale blue eyes widen as tears slide down her cheeks. My father puts his arm around her shoulders. I stand alone. We don't move as the shiny gray Chrysler glides into the distance.
Ellen Schecter has published many children's books. Her first novel, "The Big Idea" (Hyperion), won the Américas Award for Children's and Young Adult Literature. This essay is adapted from "Fierce Joy," her memoir published last June by Greenpoint Press.
Last Update:
10/26/2015 - 08:56
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http://www.thejewishweek.com/features/first-person/no-such-thing-chanukah-bush#odVLPYOSZJrIgShw.99
As far as Romans celebrating their beloved Yule
http://www.ibtimes.com/winter-solstice-2014-3-things-know-about-pagan-yule-celebrations-1763756
Notice the section on Roman's celebrating it
The pagan holiday known as Yule falls on the winter solstice, which is Dec. 21 this year. Photo: Flickr
December may be marked by Christmas, Hanukkah and Kwanzaa, but for pagans it's the time to celebrate Yule. The holiday marks the winter solstice in the Northern Hemisphere (Sunday, Dec. 21, this year) and celebrates the rebirth of the sun and beginning of winter. It is one of the oldest winter celebrations known.
The winter solstice is the longest night and shortest day of the year. The Earth's axis tilts the furthest away from the sun at 23-and-a-half degrees, giving all locations north of the equator less than 12 hours of daylight. This moment has been marked by mankind for centuries.
In ancient Rome, the weeklong feast of Saturnalia honored the sun god Saturn. Celts believed the sun stood still for 12 days, making it necessary to light a log fire to conquer the darkness. During the Iron Age, the Celts and other ancient Europeans welcomed the winter solstice by feasting, merrymaking and sacrificing animals. Today modern pagans celebrate the holiday by lighting candles, throwing bonfires, hosting feasts and decorating their homes.
Early Celebrations
Celebrating the rebirth of the sun can be seen in other cultures throughout history. While these typically took place during the coldest, darkest days of the year, winter solstice traditions were celebrations that gave people hope sunny days lay ahead.
Egyptians celebrated the return of Ra, god of the sun, on a daily basis. Ancient Greeks held a similar festival called Lenaea. The Roman Empire held Saturnalia celebrations. Scandinavia's Norsemen called the holiday "Yule." Families would light Yule logs where they would eat until the log burned out - which could take up to 12 days. Each spark was believed to represent a new pig or calf that would be born in the new year.
Germanic peoples would celebrate the winter festival by honoring the pagan god Odin. Many believed he would fly through the night sky (on a magical flying horse) and determine who would be blessed or cursed in the coming year. Many decided to stay indoors, fearing Odin's wrath.
Relation to Christmas
Originally the Christian calendar focused on Easter. It was only in the fourth century that the church decided Jesus Christ's birthday should be celebrated. Since the Bible did not point to an exact date when Christ was born, Pope Julius I chose Dec. 25. It's commonly believed that the church chose the date in an effort to replace the Roman Saturnalia with the Christian holiday.
"As the Christmas celebration moved west," Harry Yeide, a professor of religion at George Washington University told National Geographic. "The date that had traditionally been used to celebrate the winter solstice became sort of available for conversion to the observance of Christmas. In the Western church, the December date became the date for Christmas."
Besides the date, Christian leaders found ways to relate the pagan holiday to the Christian one.
"This gave rise to an interesting play on words," Yeide said. "In several languages, not just in English, people have traditionally compared the rebirth of the sun with the birth of the son of God."
Christmas traditions including dinner feasts, gift-giving, and decorative wreaths can be traced back to winter solstice rituals. For instance, for the Celtic druids, mistletoe was a sacred plant called "All Heal." Priests would cut the plant from the tree, hold a feast and sacrifice animals underneath it. Mistletoe was believed to cure illnesses, serve as an antidote for poisons, ensure fertility and protect against witchcraft. Some people would hang it from their doorways or rooms to offer goodwill to visitors.
Ancient Romans would decorate their homes with holly during winter solstice. Holly wreaths were given as gifts and used as decoration in public areas and in homes to honor the sun god Saturn. Ancient Celts would have similar traditions. Many would plant holly in their homes as a form of protection since the plants was believed to hold magical powers for its ability to survive the winter months.
Modern Festivities
For Wiccans and Druids, Yule is one of the eight solar holidays celebrated each year. Wiccans see Yule as a time to spend with friends and family, exchange gifts and honor the sun. Homes are decorated with red, green and white decorations - colors that hark back to Druidic traditions.
Some Wiccans welcome the new solar year with light. Rituals can include meditating in darkness with lit candles, singing pagan carols and lighting Yule logs (either in indoor fireplaces or outdoor bonfires).
Wiccan priestess Selena Fox suggests decorating an evergreen wreath with holiday herbs and mounting it on the front door to celebrate the continuity of life. Evergreen trees can be decorated as well with holiday decorations and pagan symbols. "Call it a Solstice tree," Fox said in a blog post about winter solstice traditions.
Druids typically celebrate the holiday at Stonehenge in England. Last year 3,500 visitors watched the sun rise and watched how it cast a line that directly connects the altar stone, the slaughter stone and heel stone. Similar celebrations take place at other ancient sites such as Newgrange in Ireland and the Cerro del Gentil pyramid in Peru.