Yesterday afternoon proved idyllic as Steven and Ravi brought lunch, which was enjoyed by all four of us followed by Steven relaxing in our living-room with Will while Ravi and I cuddled up on my king sized bed with a small pile of picture books, all related to some aspect of Passover, which she and I are eager to celebrate with our family and friends, this week.
One book concentrated on the story of Moses liberating Jewish families from slavery in ancient Egypt. Another concentrated upon our symbolic Seder plate and our Haggadahs (the book that will be laid at each place setting around our dinner table, so everyone can take turns participating in reading the Passover story aloud before feasting on each of our traditional courses— charozets, hard boiled eggs, gefilte fish, light as air matzoh balls floating in chicken soup, brisket’n gravy, roasted potatoes, a green veggie, sweet carrots, cranberry sauce, pickles and olives and matzoh—no bread to be seen, anywhere. Honey cake, macaroons, and fresh fruit salad for dessert).
Preceding cancer and COVID, Ravi (then four years old) helped me roll the matzoh balls and baste the brisket with savory red wine gravy before placing our succulent main course into the oven to bake for several hours until tender, just as she and I had enjoyed doing the same for Rosh Hashanah. This year, as my low energy level does not allow for preparing breakfast for myself much less a feast for twelve, our dinner will be catered. This is a great improvement over the past two years when our Seder was Zoomed.
Another book that we enjoyed was just plain silly as each page showed us frogs here, frogs there, frogs jumping everywhere (introducing the ten plagues that had rained down on Pharaoh’s ancient Egypt—none of which were funny, at all, each time Moses, raising his staff toward the heavens above, commanded Pharaoh to—LET MY PEOPLE GO! To which Pharaoh replied—NO! NO! NO! I WILL NOT LET THEM GO!)
The fourth book we read to each other proved to be Ravi’s favorite, because she loves anything magical in nature. This award-winning storybook, titled The Passover Guest, is about a very poor Jewish girl in 1929, who had a magical encounter with the prophet, Elijah …
After enjoying these storybooks, together, Ravi and I continued to cuddle while watching the animated film, Prince of Egypt, on my iPad, followed by coloring paper plates as if they were Seder plates at my kitchen table (Ravi’s idea), and just before it was time for Steven and Ravi to head home for supper, my sweet, seven year old grand daughter and I sat on the area rug in my dining room so as to fetch everything we’d need for our Seder (this Friday) out of the buffet cabinet, and upon placing the cup for Elijah into Ravi’s super careful hands, my precious grand daughter, who proves as inquisitive with me as I’d been with my grandmothers, asked if Elijah’s cup could be placed on the table near to the chair designated as her own, so she can keep an eye on it to see when the wine poured into the prophet’s cup has been drunk—and with a smile playing about my lips, my beloved grand daughter’s doting Gramma Annie replied with a chuckle: of course—and as soon as you spy the spirit of Elijah hovering over our Seder table, please wink at me, so I can delight in seeing this ancient spirit before he slips away to honor every family’s Seder table (of which there are many millions, throughout the world) with his benevolent presence. And as Ravi loves a secret as well as the magical miracles that had freed Jewish families from slavery, her seven year old smile beamed at mine as we’d spontaneously high-fived.
🙋🏻♀️😊Annie
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