Storytelling

In Egypt the Jews ate quickly and anxiously because they were nervous about the plague of the first born and they were expecting their imminent departure into freedom. Today Jews of Africa and Asia customarily act out the Exodus itself, dressing their children (or a dramatically inclined adult) in baggy clothes, a scarf or hat, hiking boots, a walking stick, a belt with a canteen and, most important, the afikoman wrapped in one's clothes on the shoulder (or perhaps in a back pack).

Try sending the youngest children out of the room (or the house) with a bag of props and the help of an adult to prepare this dialogue. Here is a semi-traditional script that may be used by the "actors" at the Seder.

Adults - Who's there?

Children - Moshe, Aaron, and Miriam.

Adults - Come in. Tell us about your journey!

Children - We have just arrived from Egypt where we were slaves to Pharaoh.

He made us do such hard work. [Improvise about how bad it was.]

Adults - How did you escape?

Children - God sent Moshe and Aaron to tell Pharaoh: "Let my people go". When he refused, God sent ten plagues. [Improvise describing some of the plagues.]

Finally God brought the most awful plague on the first born of Egypt.

Then Pharaoh was really scared so he kicked us out.

Adults - Why are you dressed like that? What is on your shoulder?

Children - We escaped in the middle of the night and had no time to let the dough for our bread rise. The dough that we wrapped in our cloaks and slung over our shoulders turned to matza in the heat of the sun.

Adults - Tell us about your adventures.

Children - Pharaoh changed his mind after releasing us and chased us to the edge of the Red Sea. We would have been caught for sure, but then God split the sea. [Describe how it felt.]

Adults - Where are you going now?

Children - To Jerusalem.

All - La-shana ha-ba-ah Bee'Yerushalayeem!

"When a day passes, it is no longer there. What remains of it? Nothing more than a story. If stories weren't told or books weren't written, humans would live like the beasts, only for the day."

Reb Zebulun said, "Today we live, but by tomorrow today will be a story. The whole world, all human life, is one long story."

Children are as puzzled by passing time as grownups. What happens to a day once it is gone? Where are all our yesterdays with their joys and sorrows? Literature helps us remember the past with its many moods. To the storyteller yesterday is still here as are the years and the decades gone by.

In stories time does not vanish. Neither do people and animals. For the writer and his readers, all creatures go on living forever. What happened long ago is still present.

OUR FAMILY labors a long time at our Seder trying to grasp the first part of the Haggadah: "We were slaves in the land of Egypt." I ask my children: What do you think it feels like to be a slave?

ONCE I TOLD my four-year-old a story about a boy who did not see his Daddy for a year: "The boy had a birthday and Daddy couldn't come. Then Daddy called and said, 'I'm going to come home.' The boy invited all his friends to come and see his Daddy, because he loved him. He said, 'Abba is coming home'. He watched his Mommy cook kugel, his Daddy's favorite. Just after his friends had come, Abba called to say, 'The boss won't let me come.' The little boy said, 'What do you mean, the boss won't let you come? Tell him your son wants you home. Everybody wants you. We miss you!"'

SUDDENLY I could not help it, I started crying and my son started crying about the kid in the story. I created this dialogue of the Abba trying to explain to his little son: "I can't make my own decisions. The boss decides my movements for me." We felt the loneliness of the little boy who wanted so much to see his father but who knew that his love was not enough to bring him home. That is what it means to be a slave. You can't control your life.