Thursday, Jan 29
What I'm Doing With My
Yellow Pin
My late father z”l had a spectacular collection of Passover Haggadot. They came from around the world, beautiful artwork, scholarly commentaries, family-friendly, different languages. Each was unique. While looking through them at my mom’s this month, it didn’t take long to find THE Haggadah, the one my dad used each year to actually lead the seder. It was easy to recognize, not because it was more worn than others, but because of the many folded papers he stored at the front, which fell out as soon as I opened the book.
The inserts included interesting prayers that had caught my father’s eye over the years and which he would share with us on Seder night. One page, which I remember distinctly from my childhood in the 1970s, was entitled “The Matzah of Hope.”* Back when Soviet Jews were refused permission to emigrate, they were referred to as “Refuseniks.” So each year, on Passover, the holiday that celebrates freedom, my father would hold up a Matzah and read aloud “This is the Matzah of Hope!” and we would say a prayer for the Refuseniks and talk about how we had to do everything we could to help them gain their freedom from Soviet oppression. This not only enhanced the seder experience, but it helped us appreciate our freedom even more.
In the 1980s when Soviet Jews were finally allowed to leave and Refuseniks were a thing of the past, we didn’t always read the prayer aloud. But I don’t recall a single seder at which the now former Refuseniks were not mentioned. This was a part of the Story of our People, the continued Story of the Exodus. It would always be upon us, as we celebrate our freedom, to remember and acknowledge the miracles that allowed us to get here.
Sadly, our millennia-old history seems to take us from enemy to enemy. Pharoah, Nebuchadnezzar, Haman, the Romans, Crusaders, Cossacks, Nazis, PLO, Hezbollah, Hamas. And plenty more massacres, blood libels, ghettos, and discrimination in between.
Right now, for the first time since 2014, there are no Israeli hostages in Gaza. There seems to be some type of ceasefire, although, well, it ain’t what we were hoping for and really not what any of us envision when we think of a peaceful ceasefire. But the important thing? The hostages are out.
So what about the yellow lapel pin? And what to do with my “Bring Them Home” dog tag necklace? Some people are donating theirs to the local UJA for the creation of an art piece. Me? I’m going to keep them with my Haggadot and Pesach paraphernalia. This year, and every year going forward, when we talk about our freedom at the Pesach seder, we will look at these items, memorabilia of the most recent chapter in our history. We will talk about it with our children and grandchildren. Just as we tell our little ones about the Exodus from Egypt, the Refuseniks of the 1970s, the Nazis of WWII, and the Cossacks of Russian pogroms, we will remember that for 843 days in the 21st Century, Hamas held our People hostage in Gaza – innocent young music lovers abducted from a music festival that focused on love; beautiful, peace-loving family units torn apart and kidnapped from their homes on kibbutzim, many brutally murdered first so only their lifeless bodies were taken and held captive to be later used in the sickening game of Terrorist Negotiations. We will talk about how we never forgot them and didn’t give up until the very last body was found and returned to his family. All this while the world condemned our actions and while angry throngs called for our destruction “from the River to the Sea.” May we and our descendants never forget, may we always be free, and may we continue to do all we can for Tikun Olam – repairing the world and making it a better place for all.
Am Yisrael Chai!