Bubbe's Place: Stories

Passover Memories

Over the years many things changed in our family. Some things never changed. For example, the Seder was a constant. Every year we sat down together to retell the story of the exodus from Egypt and freedom slavery. Back in the thirties my dad sat at the head of the table and oyffired (conducted) the Seder, the reading of the Haggadah. The men read together in a fast sing-song, the sound was the same sound you would hear at a Shabbat service. The speed was break-neck with each trying to go faster than the next man to him racing breathlessly to the end of the story. Fortunately, there were a few pauses when te men could catch their breat and the rest of the us could catch up.

The first pause was at the point where the youngest child had to ask the four questions. In those days we asked the questions first in Hebrew and then in Yiddish. As son as the child finished the last question, the men regrouped and raced on.

I don’t think any of my aunts could read at that time. In the shtetl, the boys went to school from the age of 5 until 13. The girls had only one year of schooling. In that one year they learned the Yiddish alphabet in order to follow the words in the women’s Yiddish prayer book. The also learned their numbers and to do simple arithmetic. They learned addition and subtraction only. When they came to America, the women went right to work in the sweatshops and factories doing sewing. There they worked long hours under debilitating conditions. When they got home there was cooking, cleaning, and caring for their children. They did not have time or energy for school. My mother was the youngest child. Right from birth she was determined and ambitious. She did not understand the word “No” in any language. Sonya was the only one who was a fluent reader in English, Yiddish, Russian, and Hebrew. Mother insisted on reading some portions of the Haggadah slowly, with feeling. Menashe loved and supported her. She could read all she wanted. When she finished, then the men would race on.

By the time I was old enough to really understand and remember, Sonya was introducing new readings and songs to the Seder. She made sure these readings were done with real thought and could be understood in Yiddish and in English. The racing sing-song of the men was being reigned in. Everyone who could read, was allowed to read. There were new readings about the Revolt of the Warsaw Ghetto. We sang new songs, The Paritsan Leed (Yiddish song), and Ani Maamin (Hebrew Song- I Believe, I Believe). L’Shanah Habaah (Hebrew – Next Year in Jerusalem) was sung with new vigor. After W.W.II we added a new prayer for the Jews of Silence, - Stalin’s U.S.S.R.

By the time the war ended, all my aunts could read. Their sons had gone to war. Some of my cousins wrote their parents in Yiddish, others wrote in English. From their letters, their mothers learned to read. They bought newspapers into their homes to learn about the places where their sons were fighting.

There were always guests at our family Seder. Sonya always said that a tree can be alone in a field, but no Jew should be alone on his holiday.

The Haggadah that we used in the thirties was the Maxwell House Coffee edition. If you bought coffee, you got a free Haggadah. It had a few pictures, but no colored illustrations. It was written in Hebrew with an archaic English translation. The English translation was not inspiring but it was certainly interesting. Despite its failings, it was beloved. The English speaking kids loved to wonder what was the sound the “turtle made in the wilderness” sounded like.

The year Aaron was born (1981) we bought new Haggodot with what I thought were wonderful English translations and beautiful illustrations. Ethel, Irv and I looked at dozens of books before we chose this one. We agreed that the Maxwell House Coffee edition had to go. We needed something more attractive for our grandchildren. We made sure that nothing was left out. Additions, on the other had, were welcome.

The menu for the Seder meal has hardly changed. Gefilte fish, matzo ball soup, and chicken are still with us. Green salads were introduced in the late forties. The introduction of coleslaw created a terrible storm in our Seder. I was already married and had three children when I served a plate of coleslaw made from cabbage and carrots. My father had a fit. “Chumatz! Chumatz! It is unclean, forbidden during Passover! Throw it out!” he demanded. In order to stop the tirade, I removed the coleslaw. Zeide Menashe would not even discuss it. Finally, long after Passover had passed, he explained. In his father’s house they had one wooden bucket used to water the wheat and the cabbages. Therefore the cabbage could not be eaten during Passover. Eyes rolled, but Zeide enforced the cabbage ban. I cannot bring myself to describe the fight over peanuts and peanut butter, which did not even exist in the old country.

In the thirties we always ended the meal with a dish of stewed fruit. Today it is more apt to be a fresh fruit bowl. The vegetables have changed. We used to eat carrots and potatoes. Today we eat asparagus in other greens as well.

Pesach-1998