Pesach. And Baruch Hashem the f
It was a relief to have Noam and Orli with them for the Seder and to see them looking so happy. “Such idealists,” she thought, glancing at her son. “A gun in one hand and a prayer book in the other!” Their lives were so precarious with constant attacks on their settlement and neighboring areas. And if this were not bad enough, there was pressure from the politicians and others who referred to them bloodsuckers making excessive demands on the army’s protection. Debbie herself had had to contend with the derogatory remarks. Comments that Noam and Orli had no right to live in
Shlomo was making his traditional statement: “On Pesach we read the story and celebrate how Hashem led us out of bondage. The Haggadah – that’s the book we read, commands us to identify with the Jewish slaves. We read: 'In every generation, each man must regard himself as if he had gone forth from
Debbie nodded. “Amen,” she said, pursing her lips, thinking: “These children; these settlers… they’re the true army of G-d!” She watched Orli, who seemed to glow with well-being. A pretty young woman, she had the fine features of Jews from
The table, carefully set with Pesach crockery and gle
The four questions were asked by Ilan who’d rehearsed at school for weeks, followed by Avigdor and Ram, brothers of Batya’s friend Anya. Next to them sat their Russian parents, Luba and Boris (who’d renamed himself Arieh on his aliyah some five years before).
It was the first time the Urinovskys had visited the Caspis and they felt a little out of their depth. Boris, a computer technician, had picked up the language in no time and found a good job with a hi-tech company. Luba still spoke a halting, pidgin Hebrew and although she was an experienced bookkeeper, had only been able to find menial work cleaning for a local bank. Her pale, dyed blonde prettiness was spoiled when she smiled, revealing her two gold front teeth.
Anya was eighteen, a few months older than Batya and they’d become close friends. Although the Urinovsky’s were not religious, they sent their children to religious schools, wanting them to learn more about their Jewish heritage and hoping to improve their social position. But in fact, they found it difficult to gain acceptance by the community. The Principal and teachers expected the f
As the daughter of a Jewish mother, Luba’s Jewishness was unquestioned. Not so, Arieh, Jewish from his father’s side. He’d been pressured into an Orthodox conversion, which he’d been pursuing half-heartedly for the sake of his children. Arieh would never admit it, but he sometimes served pork — or white steak, as it was known — and crab was one of his favorite foods.
Since Luba’s parents had spoken Yiddish at home, she had a smattering of the language and could handle some smlall-talk with Bella. But neither she nor Arieh spoke English. With no common language, Debbie was pleased that the Seder provided a structure to the evening, leaving little time for conversation.
Debbie wasn’t thrilled by Batya’s friendship with Anya. She almost regretted encouraging her daughter to befriend the new immigrant. Instead of Batya influencing Anya –Anya’s secularist tendencies seemed to have the stronger attraction. It was partly due to her desire to get to know the f
Shlomo chanted the list of plagues G-d rained down on the Egyptians for enslaving His people, while the children enunciated in a bloodthirsty chorus: “Blood, frogs, vermin, disease, boils, hail, locusts, darkness,” finally reaching a crescendo, shouting: “the slaughter of the firstborn!”
Shlomo laughed wryly and commented to Debbie: “A bloodthirsty lot, we have here!” He addressed the children: “But did the Lord slaughter the Jewish children?” her asked.
“No!” came back the excited rejoinder.
“So – who can tell us how Hashem spared the Jewish children?” He turned to Batya.
“Tsk,” she clicked her tongue crossly. “
Avigdor yelled: “I know, I know! The Jews painted a mark on the doorposts of the houses so the Angel wouldn’t kill them!”
“Right!” Shlomo confirmed, “Give the man a handshake!” he waggled the little boy’s hand. “But why did Hashem do all these things?”
“Because the Egyptians were cruel and they wouldn’t let us go—.”
Uriel and Avigdor fell on each other, fighting with imaginary swords.
Shlomo introduced the next portion. “Now we sing ‘Dayenu’ – who can tell us why?”
“I know, Abba,” said Ilan shyly. “We thank Hashem for His miracles.”
“Good boy!” Shlomo said, nodding and smiling. “Another Yeshiva bocher, Ma!” he turned to Bella, but she looked vague and he wasn’t sure she understood. “Who can say how many miracles there were?”
“Ten,” offered Avigdor.
“You read it!” yelled Ilan.
“Mah pitom! – Nonsense!” Avigdor said, as cheekily as a Sabra.
Noam said: “Rabbi Akiva showed that there were two hundred and fifty.
Luba smiled politely. She didn’t understand why they argued about every little point. In the meantime, Arieh silently rehearsed the next portion of the story. He wanted to read aloud but didn’t want to make a fool of himself by reading haltingly.
Batya and Anya giggled and made remarks behind their hands. Debbie shook her head and frowned. Batya said: “Finish already so we can eat!”
Looking at her sternly, Shlomo said, “Come Batya. Sing with me. Anya—.” He sang, ‘Dayenu’. Noam jointed in, with Orli. “Sing Ilan… Uriel,” Shlomo said. “You know the song, Avigdor! Da… Da..yeinu!” He turned to his mother: “Nu, Ma – why aren’t you singing?”
Bella looked at him strangely. “Meishke,” she said, “Take me home.”
Shlomo looked at Debbie and opened his hands questioningly. His mother had called him by his father’s name.
“Abba, enough already!” Batya called, after they’d sung the eighth verse of the song. “It goes on and on forever! Let’s only sing the chorus after every four verses.”
Luba sipped her wine, looking pink and feeling lightheaded. She wondered if Shlomo was going to go through every word of the Haggadah[1]. It was so long and the wine was making her sleepy. She was beginning to wish she’d made an excuse not to come. She’d have been more comfortable going to a communal Seder, like her acquaintances. Among immigrants who didn’t take the whole affair so seriously.
They dipped and tasted bitter herbs to remind them of the bitter lives they led in
Bella was making strange noises, muttering to herself and Debbie said: “What is it?”
Pointing at Luba and Arieh, Bella demanded: “Who are these people?”
“This is Luba and he’s Arieh, Bella. You know Anya, Batya’s friend?”
Anya waved and grinned. “Shalom, Sabta Bella!”
Bella looked skeptical. “Goyim,” Bella said and Debbie shuddered.
“Mum-mum”, Uriel pointed at the Matzah, making eating movements with his mouth. Orli lifted him onto her lap and fed him. “Ma-tzah!” she said, kissing his head. He wriggled. Under fluttering eyelids, she caught the eye of her husband and stroked her tummy. Noam bent over and kissed her cheek.
At the head of the table, there was a flurry, as Shlomo hid a piece of Matzah – the Afikomen - for the children to find later. Those who were old enough watched closely, trying to guess where it was put; determined to be the first to find it. Traditionally, the host of the Seder would have to buy the Afikomen before the Seder could continue. But Shlomo was experienced at sleight of hand, and made sure the Afikomen was always found by the smallest child.
At last the ritual was over and they could eat. Debbie called Batya to help pass out bowls of grated egg with salt water. Batya said, “Here it comes, Ima…” as Shlomo said what he said every year: “I can’t understand why we wait for Pesach, to eat our eggs this way. Debbele, once a week I want a boiled egg in salt water!”
Anya got up to help but
“But, Mom,” Batya complained. “Anya and I promised to meet the ‘crowd’ at the park later.”
“What crowd? Just forget it!” Debbie said, furiously. “Tonight you’ll be with the f
Batya retorted under her breath, “I’m going out when this is finished. You can’t stop me!” She passed out the soup.
“Eat… eat!” Shlomo said, chopping up his kneidelach. “Debbie you’ve surpassed yourself.”
“Very good,” echoed Arieh.
“The children… so wild!” Shlomo said as Ram and Ilan ran up and down the corridor pretending to be airplanes. “Every year the same. So how are things with you?”
“Beseder, beseder,” Arieh replied. “Baruch Hashem.”
Shlomo wanted to laugh at Arieh’s Baruch Hashems. He said: “I take my hat off to you. You Russians have made your mark. Everywhere Russians. At the supermarket, everyone’s Russian. In the hospitals —. Sometimes I wonder where all the Israelis have gone.”
Arieh nodded, uncertain whether this was a compliment.
“Natan Sharansky’s done good things for the Russians. Clever man.” Shlomo nodded his head. “Clever – chacham!”
Luba called: “Ramushka…” When the toddler came to the table, she offered him a piece of stewed fruit. To Bella, she said: “Geshmak! – Tasty!”
Shlomo continued: “You’re happy in
“Vos better,” Arieh said. “In
Shlomo nodded. “You’re from
“Da,” Arieh agreed. “Many people sick.” He shook his head.
“More wine, Luba?”
“Spasiba,” she replied, holding out her glass to Shlomo, but thinking that if she didn’t stop, she’d fall asleep.
“You happy?” he asked.
She smiled politely and said something to her husband in Russian.
Arieh said: “She says the life is hard. No good friends. She vorks hard in de bank. Not good vork. Cleaning!” He laughed, holding out his glass. “You got vodka?”
“I do!” Shlomo fetched a bottle from his cabinet and passed it to Arieh. “Help yourself!”
“Spasiba!” Arieh said, smiling broadly. “Lubska?” She covered her mouth with her hand, shaking her head.
Shlomo laughed: “We still have to drink more wine!”
Batya and Anya got up. Batya said: “We’re just going out for some fresh air, Ima. Don’t get excited!” As she walked to the door, she giggled: “I’ll let Eliyahu in when I come back.”
Debbie pursed her lips. She sat next to Luba. The women smiled awkwardly at each other. Debbie passed Luba some nuts. Then she turned to her husband: “Your mother hasn’t touched her food.”
“Why aren’t you eating, Ma?” Shlomo asked.
Bella gave him a dirty look. “Chometz[3]!” she exclaimed, meaning that the food was not kosher for Pesach.
“Nonsense!” Shlomo exclaimed. “Didn’t you help me burn the chometz?”
Noam said: “Safta, have some nuts.” He cracked a pecan and gave it to her, but Bella just said: “Meishke, take me home.”
“Nu everyone, let’s say grace!” Shlomo distributed the prayer books.
Just then, Batya and Anya burst into the dining room, pale with shock. Anya was crying.
“A terrible, terrible thing has happened," Batya shouted, "A bomb exploded in Netanya.”
“In Netanya? How do you know?” her father asked.
“They were talking outside… in the car park.”
“Where?” Debbie asked, holding a cloth to her face.
“The Park Hotel.”
“Many people … wounded?”
“It was full for Pesach,” Batya said. “Lots of Russians.”
Luba asked: “Anya?” When her daughter repeated the news, she clutched her throat and shouted.
“What’s she saying?” Debbie asked.
[1] The book tells the story of Passover, and is read at the Seder
[2] matzah balls
2025
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