This piece is part of our Witnessing series, which shares pieces from Israeli authors and authors in Israel, as well as the experiences of Jewish writers around the globe in the aftermath of October 7th.
It is critical to understand history not just through the books that will be written later, but also through the first-hand testimonies and real-time accounting of events as they occur. At Jewish Book Council, we understand the value of these written testimonials and of sharing these individual experiences. It’s more important now than ever to give space to these voices and narratives.
In collaboration with the Jewish Book Council, JBI is recording writers’ first-hand accounts, as shared with and published by JBC, to increase the accessibility of these accounts for individuals who are blind, have low vision or are print disabled.
On the evening of the Pesach
We were piled into Uncle Asher’s
Scarlet Lexus — the one that
Held the whiff of his old grapejuice-scented
Pipe I never liked much as a kid but which
Reminded me of Seder celebrations and the
Matzohs that my father always hid in our
Apartment when we were just kids
And the Seder meant you couldn’t eat the challah.
My cousins had a group of kids:
The darling boys (a year apart),
Girls dressed in princess tutus,
And the oldest (on the eve of his Bar Mitzvah) Max.
That evening on their doorstep we had gathered wishes on
The blue mezuzah and my father donned his kippa.
Max was in cologne to woo the girls at school
And Uncle Asher brought the wine, which he almost drank
Alone (the preferred beverage of the evening grape juice).
We arranged the Seder plate and lost the bone
(But to the dog) and Aunt Adina hid the matzohs
In the yard for all the kids to find.
Someone complained that Max was in the game
But he was not yet a Bar Mitzvah so it was conceded,
And anyway he’d lost (likely of his own design).
He wore a Star of David and a yellow kippa
Which had fallen somewhere in the yard while he was running;
Nevertheless the evening carried on
And Uncle Asher gave him a replacement,
Reading, in blue letters
Colored like the blue mezuzah,
“Never Again.”
And I am sure he knew the implications.
We heard the newscast ringing from the TV
(The household was either not religious or someone
Left it on out of neglect).
Today they were not letting Jews on campus
And I thought it was a joke the Jewish news had played
And we were not yet halfway through the prayers
And little Max said, “Do they want us dead?”
And Uncle Asher said, “A bunch of clowns!”
And Aunt Adina said, “They’ll be arrested!”
And my dad said, “Yes.”
“But
We are just celebrating, eating matzoh,
Sitting as a family together just like other families
And what have we done wrong?”
In the yard I found the yellow kippa
And it reminded me of yellow stars.
The views and opinions expressed above are those of the author, based on their observations and experiences.
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Liza Libes founded her literary project, Pens and Poison, in New York City. Her writing, which frequently addresses themes of Judaism and female identity, has appeared in Gone Lawn, Willows Wept Review, Jewish Women of Words and elsewhere. Liza is also an entrepreneur and a classical music enthusiast. Her latest poetry collection, Illicit Kingdom, is available on Amazon.