Arukh HaShulchan, Orach Chaim 296:2-9

Hook

Imagine the Havdalah candle not merely as a light for the new week, but as a flickering bridge, casting the glow of the Sabbath into the shadows of the unknown days ahead.

Context

• Place: While the Arukh HaShulchan reflects the Ashkenazi world of late 19th-century Lithuania, its discussion of Havdalah touches on the universal Sephardi and Mizrahi commitment to the B'samim (spices) and the Ner (light).
• Era: A period of profound codification, where the nuances of ritual practice were being finalized for modern Jewish life.
• Community: The Sephardi/Mizrahi tradition emphasizes the sensory experience of Havdalah—deeply inhaling the fragrance to restore the soul (neshamah yeterah) as it departs.

Text Snapshot

"One blesses over the spices... because the soul is distressed at the departure of the Sabbath. We bring it joy and relief with the scent of spices... and we bless over the light because the fire was created on the evening of the Sabbath." (Arukh HaShulchan, Orach Chaim 296:2-9)

Minhag/Melody

In many Sephardi traditions, particularly among North African communities, there is a beautiful minhag to dip one’s fingers into the Havdalah wine and touch them to the eyelids or behind the ears. This is accompanied by the recitation of “Mitzvat Hashem barah, me’irat einayim” (The commandment of the Lord is clear, enlightening the eyes).

Contrast

While many Ashkenazi traditions focus on the B'samim box as a silver ornamental object, many Mizrahi families historically used fresh sprigs of hadas (myrtle) or raihan (basil) directly from the garden, emphasizing the raw, aromatic connection to the earth as the Sabbath concludes.

Home Practice

Next Havdalah, go beyond the box. Place a sprig of fresh mint or rosemary on your table. As you smell it, acknowledge that you are feeding your soul, not just your senses, as you transition into the week.

Takeaway

The end of Shabbat is not a loss, but a sensory transition. By engaging scent and light, we carry the Sabbath’s sanctity into our mundane work, turning the mundane into the meaningful.