The Jewish holiday that dominates above all others in my childhood memory is Passover.
My mother’s ritualistic cleaning, the sacred job of bringing up the Passover plates and bringing down the toaster. My father, kneeling by my bed, rehearsing the four questions with my sister and me so we’d be ready come seder night. The later-than-usual family get-together, the rapid scramble to be first to find the afikoman and get the IOU from our uncle for five bucks. [Read more…]