This evening, as we sat down as a family to eat dinner, I tried to engage my three-year-old in conversation about Pesach. Purim was such an anti-climactic experience - Eliana was crying most of the day, she didn't quite get the concept of reciprocating when it came to Mishloach Manot - I thought it would be smart to get her in the Pesach spirit ahead of time. I asked her what she had learned in Gan about Pesach - it better be extremely profound for 2000 shekel a month, I thought to myself - and she replied, tilting her head to one side, "I don't know."
Not one to be deterred, I pressed her further. "Did they talk to you, sweetie, about what happened to the Yehudim (Jews) in Mitzrayim (Egypt)?" Bingo. I had used the correct targeted keywords. Her eyes widened and her expression became animated.
"Yes, Mummy, Tzvika [the ganenet's husband - don't ask - it's a really long story - if you really want to know why the ganenet's husband was doing his wife's job, send me an email and I will explain] told us that Haman HaRasha (Haman, the wicked one) was a really naughty man, and all the peoples were so scared!"
Josh responded, "No, honey, that's a different chag (festival)! On Pesach, the Jewish people are scared of Pharaoh!" That basically summed up in a nutshell our experience as the Jewish people. We go from one baddy to another!
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