ECHOES

The Forever Seder

I remember:

A snow-white tablecloth, heavily starched

Silver so bright you could see your reflection

Vehi Sheamda in a European accent.  

I spread my own starched tablecloth

Put out the Seder plate

And think: these are the things I can’t recreate

I have the silver, the crystal, the china

But I don’t have the accent

My kids: how will they know?

And then I realize: here we are

A Seder, and another, and another

A chain that stretches back all the way past Europe

I set out the dishes, the goblets, the wine

And I think (as I do every year):

Zeidy. This one’s for you.