Growing up a block away from my maternal grandfather was a uniqe privilege. One of my most favorite parts of Pesach was Shulchan Aruch of the second Seder, when my Zaide would tell us the story of his exodus from Russia. He would detail how he was a young boy and he was only allowed to take a pillow. He left his home, his beloved cow Nadjya and everything he knew, and with his family, snuck over the border by boat in the middle of the night. The story included details from before the escape, how he was beat up in school for being Jewish and how his father, the Rabbi of the community, was thrown in jail. We heard about the sacrifices his parents made by sending him and his brothers in a milk cart over the Polish border to learn Torah with the Chafetz Chaim. How poinant, I realize as an adult, that the second Seder, the one for those of us in the galut, is when my gradnfather would detail his suffering in galut. The exodus from Russia story would be told over bowls of the Baal Shem Tov's borscht, that my mother would make for the second Seder. This is the first year that I am making it myself. As my husband and I talked about what our new Seder would be, without extended family, we chose elements of each of our family's Seders. Of course, on the second night, over steaming bowls of borscht, I will tell my Zaide's story to my children, connecting them to the rich past that I grew up dreaming of as I fell asleep during Nirtza at the table, seated next to my Zaide.


haggadah Section: Shulchan Oreich