Raise the Maror and ask:Raise the Maror and ask:The Maror is a symbol of the bitter lives of our ancestors who were slaves in Egypt, who had to work very hard as builders and as field workers.
Our rabbis teach that each generation should experience the Exodus anew:
In each and every generation an individual should look upon him or herself; as if he or she had left Egypt.
I awoke and saw my mother before me.
"Here, take this," she told me.
"Yech, bitter!"
"Yes, but it can loosen the congestion, free your breathing."
"Must I taste the bitter to feel the freedom?"
"No, but it may take much longer. Perhaps you need to know how bad it can become: the constrictions, and the contractions before any birth can occur...."
We had moved cramped together, fast along the narrow paths to our unknown destination. Our lives increasingly embittered by those who did not understand us.
Softly, she said again, "Take it."
"Breathe deeply, my dear one," she whispered.
I felt her body move with mine as she continued: "Feel the inflow of The Holy One's presence as you inhale with the Heh, yes, stand straight as the Vav, now, slowly with the Heh again allow your body to collapse to the size of the Yod . Again and again, continuously. Allow this Breath of the universe to become your breath. 'Kol haN'shamah t'hallel Yah, Halleluyah!' 'Every breathing thing praises God, Praise God!'"
"The bitterness will pass and the freedom will begin!"
Zog nit keyn mol az du geyst dem letstn veg
Ven himlen blayene farshteln bloye teg.
Kumen vet nokh undzer oysgebenkte sho-
Es vet a poyk ton undzer trot-mir zaynen do!
Fun grinem palmenland biz vaysn land fun shney,
Mir kumen on mit undzer payn, mit undzer vey.
Un vu gefaln s'iz a shprits fun unzer blut,
Shprotsn vet dor undzer gvure, undzer mut.
Es vet di morgnzun bagildn undz dem haynt,
Un der nekhtn vet farshvindn mitn faynd.
Nor oyb farzamen vet di zun in dem kayor-
Vi a parol zol geyn dos lid fun dor tsu dor.
Dos lid geshribn iz mit blut un nit mit blay.
S'iz nit keyn lidl fun a foygl af der fray.
Dos hot a folk tsvishn falndike vent
Dos lid gezungen mit naganes in di hent!
To zog nit keyn mol az du geyst dem letstn veg....
Never say that there is only death for you
Though leaden skies may be concealing days of blue-
Because the hour that we've hungered for is near;
Beneath our tread the earth shall tremble: We are here!
From land of palm-tree to the far-off land of snow
We shall be coming without torment and our woes,
And everywhere our blood has sunk into the earth
Shall our bravery, our vigor blossom forth!
We'll have the morning sun to set our day aglow,
And all our yesterdays shall vanish without the foe,
And if the time is long before the sun appears;
Then let this song go like a signal through the years.
This song was written with our blood and not with lead;
It's not a song that birds sing overhead
It was a people, among toppling barricades,
That sang this song of ours with pistols and grenades.
So, never say that there is only death for you....
Light the Yahrtzeit candle.Blessed are You Adonai, our God, Sovereign of all space and time, who has made us distinct through Your directives and has directed us eat the bitter herb.
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