Secrets Behind The New Passover Haggadah; A Love Story; Part One
Lone Soldier Meets Yemenite Clan
by Jerry Waxman
I was a
chayal boded in the IDF; a lone soldier. No family in Israel, none at all. Not even any friends or acquaintences. When I made aliya in the early 1980's I really burnt the bridges with my American past. Who knows why, exactly? Something was burning inside me to be a part of Israel. That's why I got myself drafted into a combat unit in the Israeli army within months after making aliya.
I barely understood Hebrew. My background in Jewishness was limited to having attended high holiday services and family seders while growing up. I knew practically nothing of Israel's history at the time I entered the army.
Being a lone soldier has its challenges. But it also has advantages. My commanders released me almost every Shabbat, and almost every holiday. The owners of a local grocery store began to take interest in this curiousity that came into their store every Friday, just before closing time. Come to think of it, I was the only American in uniform around, maybe the first one for that neighborhood.
One day, the store owners informed me that I was coming to their home for the Pesach seder. They didn't ask me, or invite me, they informed me. It was pre-ordained. Of course I had no problem with the arrangement. As a lone soldier, I looked forward to the chance to talk with the owners' sister. Or sisters, for they had quite a few of them.
[A side story: While the above and following events were taking place, a small child in a remote village in a northern province of Thailand was just beginning a relationship with the world. The child would one day have an impact on the course of many Jewish lives. Find out more when you buy the Andaman Haggadah for your Pesach Seder.]
Nisan 14 came around, and I found myself on a moshav in the Negev. All the moshav members, including the store owners, were Yemenite Jews. That morning, some neighbors were gathered to make matzo, which felt more like pita than like a cracker. They had fashioned an oven outside specifically for the purpose. They also roasted meat outside, to be used for the evening meal.
Was this the beginning of a new adventure? Or was it a re-acquaintence with an old adventure? I did not feel out of place at all. This is what Jews have always done, and some part of me has always been part of it.
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Secrets Behind The New Passover Haggadah; A Love Story Continues
