I am looking through Purim pictures we took several years ago.

My nine-year-old daughter Chavy is a “fancy lady” on Purim, wearing my old fur jacket. Chaya Rivky is a Queen, and Sholom is a cute cowboy. He has a costume with fringe, a red bandanna, a cowboy hat and, of course, a toy gun in his holster. Aaron is a very kissable Torah scroll. We made his costume out of blue velour and painted a crown and the Ten Commandments on the front with fabric paint.

How can we add new meaning to this holy and precious day? What can we do to make this day extraordinary? How can we share our joy even more? How can we feel that G-d is with us, right here? Let me share some Purim snapshots with you and hope that you find them as meaningful as I have.

An Open House
My former landlady is called “Nenie” by everyone. “Nenie” is aunt in Hungarian and this special woman is everyone's aunt. She has an open house policy; everyone can come and visit, and really means it when she says, “I'm so happy to see you.”

Nenie shows me a Purim picture. Her (“real”) nephews took it 1 a.m. on Purim morning. Nenie is in the center of the photo. Her face is brilliant with smile. Towering around her are seven 15-year-old boys dressed like soldiers.

Nenie explains, “My nephews left their mishloach manot here between deliveries. They stopped in during the day for a snack and then returned for the Purim meal. Finally, at 1 a.m. they came back to sleep for the night. They were so happy because they had collected money throughout the day for a worthy charity. They took a picture with me, then I prepared a place for them to sleep on the living room floor.”

I look at the picture again. “Do I know anyone who needs a home base?” I ask myself.

Remembering Our Neighbors
I remember my friend showing me this picture. Her mother's dining room table is covered with hundreds of tiny mishloach manot. “We live in Long Island,” Batya explains. “Many elderly people in our community live alone and their families are far away. My mother sends out 200 mishloach manot to the neighbors.”

I was so taken by the photograph Batya shared with me that when I was a newlywed, I prepared about 50 mishloach manot and distributed them in the old age home on Foster Avenue. It took my husband three and a half hours to deliver all our mishloach manot. That's when we decided to make a shorter list. Now I send a letter and a donation to tzedaka instead of mishloach manot to friends whom I know get dozens of packages anyway. However, I still have my private list of people whom I know don't receive many mishloach manot.

Many of us are so inundated with mishloach manot that we don't know what to do with them after Purim. But what about those who sit alone all day on Purim and their homes are quiet, too quiet?

Friendships and Thank You
Ah, here is a photo of two smiling friends wearing funny hats. They are holding champagne glasses filled with ginger ale and saying, “L'Chaim and Happy Purim.” If you want to revive a friendship, Purim presents the perfect opportunity. Surprise someone. If you used to keep in touch and haven't called in months, call on Purim; it's a good day to say “hello.” Purim is a great “thank you” day. Say thank you to the mother who does car pool. Say thanks to the neighbor who helps you in neighborly ways. Stop in and say thank you to the person who keeps your spare key in case you get locked out.

An Open Hand
Here is a picture of people giving charity dressed in Purim costumes. It's traditional to give tzedaka to anyone who asks. We're told that on Purim, G-d says, “My hand is open too, to grant your requests.” Because of G-d's open hand Purim is also an auspicious day for prayer.

I know a woman named Esther who takes this message to heart. “Because my name is Esther, like the Purim heroine, I have a special feeling about praying on Purim. One woman called me who didn't have any children yet. My whole family arose early on Purim morning and prayed. A year later the woman who had called me had a child.”

We should all strive to be open on Purim.

Be Happy. It's Purim!
Here is a photograph from the Gulf War in 1991. Do you remember the miracle of the SCUDs that fell into the ocean and on the sandy desert? Iraq was defeated on Purim over a decade ago. Let's not forget the miracles. Purim is time for surprises; the time for joy. What will this year's Purim be like?

To our dismay we have yet to find the perfect peace, prosperity, knowledge and health of the Messianic era. So many glorious miracles have already happened, but we still await the most joyous, wondrous miracle of Moshiach!