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Haggadah: “A Place of My Own” From The Diary of A Former Slave Print E-mail

Haggadah“Moshe,” we said, “most of us can’t afford an animal of our own for the Pesach Offering. We haven’t received the Egyptian treasures yet!”

 

“Join together. Learn how to function as a community, something you haven’t done as slaves.”

Someone laughed, “You know guys, this is like a fixing of what Joseph’s brothers did to him. We have to learn how to live together. Isn’t this part of the “story” you told us about, Moshe?”

“Very good,” said our teacher, for that was what he had become, “you will repair the brothers’ sin. You will eat the offering on one place, all together. You cannot leave the house. You cannot take any of the Pesach out of the home.”

“That’s funny,” someone commented, “we’re about to leave on a journey to who knows where, and you are telling us about having a place!”

“Even better,” said our Rebbi, “how long has it been since you have had a sense of place?”

He was right. We smiled.

“You will learn how to create a sense of place wherever you are,” continued Moshe. “You will be able to create a home wherever you go, wherever we travel; every place along the journey. You create the place. The place doesn’t make you. Wasn’t that what got you into trouble in Egypt? You wanted to prove this was your place, as if the place was more important than you. No longer. You can have your place wherever you are.”

“I always wanted a mobile home!”

“You know,” someone said, “we should have a permanent way to remember that!”

“You will,” said Moshe, “it will be called a Mezuzah, and you’ll use it just like the Sign of the Blood on the Doorpost.”

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