Pesach reminiscences

Barry Landy Since Pesach is the supreme family festival it is also the season for nostalgia. In the last two years we have all had private sedarim and that naturally makes us think about who is not there. So I got to thinking about the Pesach festivals I have experienced in the past.

The one thing I don't remember is saying “Ma Nishtanah”. I am sure that I did, possibly when I was three, although I would soon have been supplanted by my sister who was just 18 months younger. During World War II we used to go to Llanelli, South Wales, to join my father's family at Pesach, so the first seder I recall was there. My main memory is that the table was full. My father was one of seven siblings so the family was large to start with and we contributed four more. That was normal. What stood out for a child's eye were a group of men in uniform that my grandparents were hosting for seder. This may have been an occasion when I said Ma Nishtanah. On a later visit for Pesach in 1950 I chanced to see a lunar eclipse through a window during the few moments when we left the table to wash our hands.

Naturally, I remember celebrating at my parents' table and all the extra people: uncles, cousins, and of course the unexpected guest or two. One memorable year we were in Jerusalem with my mother's father, where one of my jobs was grating horseradish - a job we all know and fear. Another Jerusalem job was managing the water. Water was rationed in Jerusalem; all premises had a tank on the roof which was filled at night and provided all water for all purposes for a day. My grandfather's double flat was full of people. Luckily the neighbour was away and let us use their water, so another job for me (and a cousin) was to syphon the water from their tank to ours. In 1959, I was a student at Cambridge and Pesach fell in term. Together with a friend, Vivian Berman, we arranged everything, knowing a

Page 29

caterer who would help. We arranged and led the sedarim and services, and even sold some tickets to members of the community, among them Maurice and Monica Bogen. After Ros and I married in 1961 we continued to visit my parents for Pesach, until in 1976 one of our children said they would like to have Pesach at home, which we then did from 1977. Obviously, we have many memories of many guests, including both sets of parents. The strangest of these memories involves two girls who turned up in shul for the ma’ariv of the first night; naturally I invited them to join us. One of the girls made some rather odd comments, the one that sticks in the mind being, in connection with the Charoset, “what does mortar signify”. So much so that my mother whispered to us when we left the room to wash “Is she Jewish?” So eventually we chatted to the girls and found out the story. One girl was Jewish the other not. The Christian girl had invited the Jewish girl to come to an Easter church service and in return the Jewish girl asked her friend to the shul service, so they wound up at a seder. One year we had two female students staying with us for the whole yomtov. They were both becoming observant and couldn't go home because they wouldn't be able to eat. They were so helpful, especially as we had a houseful!

These are some of the people who come to our minds when we sit at an almost empty seder. Chag Sameach ve Kasher!

Page 30