The Feldman Haggadah

The Feldman Seder last night was wonderful. I ate wayyy too much and had to leave before dessert (probably a good thing) but it was so nice, as it always is, to spend time with my family. Every year, as I'm sure is customary for all not-too-religious families, we light-heartedly complain and groan about the readings and ask, after every song or prayer, "Are we done yet? When can we eat?" This year, my dry-humored uncle Donald passed around the Feldman Haggadah, a photo-copied 2-page joke he told us to look over and then dinner could be served. "Just kidding, we have to read the real one," he said, but we all died reading this thing.

It goes like this:

Opening prayers: Thanks, God, for creating wine. (Drink wine.) Thanks for creating produce. (Eat parsley.)

Overview: Once we were slaves in Egypt. Now we're free. That's why we're doing this.

Four questions:
1. What's up with the matzoh?
2. What's the deal with horseradish?
3. What's with the dipping of the herbs?
4. What's this whole slouching at the table business?

Answers:
1. When we left Egypt, we were in a hurry. There was no time for making decent bread.
2. Life was bitter, like horseradish.
3. It's called symbolism.
4. Free people get to slouch.

A funny story:
Once, these five rabbis talked all night, then it was morning. (Heat soup now.)

The four kinds of children and how to deal with them:
Wise child - explain Passover.
Simple child - explain Passover slowly.
Silent child - explain Passover loudly.
Wicked child - beat brow in front of the relatives.

Speaking of children:
We hid some matzoh. Whoever finds it gets five bucks and a scratchoff!

The story of Passover:
It's a long time ago. We're slaves in Egypt. Pharaoh is a nightmare. We cry out for help. God brings his plagues upon the Egyptians. We escape, bake some matzoh. God parts the Red Sea. We make it through. The Egyptians aren't so lucky. We wander 40 years in the desert, eat manna, get the Torah, wind up in Israel, get a new temple, enjoy several years without being persecuted again. (Let brisket cool now.)

The 10 Plagues:
Blood, Frogs, Lice - you name it.

The singing of "Dayenu":
If God had gotten us out of Egypt and not punished our enemies, it would've been enough. If He'd punished our enemies and not parted the Red Sea, it would've been enough. If He'd parted the Red Sea (remove gefilte fish from refrigerator now.) etc.

Eat matzoh. Drink more wine. Slouch.

Thanks again, God, for everything.

SERVE MEAL

Say Grace. Drink more wine. Sing some more songs. Try to stay awake. Who knows one? Who knows two through thirteen? Dad bought a goat for two zuzim. Everyone beats up everyone until God steps in.

Go to sleep.

It was definitely sad without my Nona, but I think we all tried to be funnier and in our best spirits to make each other less sad, and it worked. My aunt brought a box of things she'd found in Nona's apartment when cleaning it out, and brought me a huge envelope filled with all the cards and letters I ever sent to my Nona - she kept them all. I read through them on the train home and totally teared up but it was more of a happy memory than a sad one. On every single card, in various handwriting over the years, I always wrote "I love you very much!!!!" and it made me happy to see that, knowing how happy my Nona would have been reading it and how much I'm sure it meant to her. I'm glad I was a good granddaughter, and I miss her, but I know she had a happy life and loved her family as much as we loved her and always will.

*tears* I know. But seriously. Sometimes I get so busy I can't see my family as much as I'd like to, but they will always be the most important thing to me.