Pesach
This Night
By Rabbi Label Lam
As for the one who does not know to ask, you should open him up, as it is
written “And you should relate to your child on that day saying because of
this HASHEM did for me with my exiting from Egypt.” (Shemos 13:8) (From
the Four Sons at the Seder)
How can we make the Seder more relevant for the one whom, for whatever
reason, does not know to ask? In general education we can teach to the
middle of the class and ignore those beyond 2 and ½ standard deviations to
the left and the right. On Pesach night, though, we have a sacred
obligation to reach each child according to his interest, mood, and
attitude. Perhaps the meaning of the Seder can be synthesized and
encapsulated in a simple story that has a concrete message no one still
awake could fail to appreciate. Here is a story I would tell my young
Hebrew Day School kids:
A young boy grew up blind from birth. Never had he seen the light of day.
He tried with all his might to compensate for his lack. He learned to read
and right in Braille. He managed with little assistance to maneuver
through local streets. His childhood was a misery, mostly because of the
cruelty of some neighborhood bullies that tormented and teased him daily.
If he wasn’t being tripped they were calling him names and the genius of
their methodologies grew in sophistication. This poor boy, we’ll call him
Ben, would cry himself to sleep each night after writing about his
suffering in his Braille diary. On day he hit the very lowest of ebbs. A
practical joke they played on him humiliated him to the core and left his
spirits mortally wounded. He wrote in his Braille diary that night, with
tears flowing from his broken eyes, wondering aloud and crying to G-
d, “Why do I need to live like this? When can it end? Enough!”
Just then his parents entered his room. They had exciting news. They had
been talking to a doctor that believes he can cure his blindness. Ten days
later he was in the hospital. After four days of careful preparation the
operation was performed.
The night of the fifteenth with his family gathered around and with the
Doctor himself, soft candles were lit. The magic moment arrived. Two huge
round patches were removed and he beheld the face of his loving parents
for the very first time. He shared glances with the Doctor and then ran
excitedly to the window to drink thirstily all the sights the entire
night.
As the weeks and months passed he became like the other children, free
from his former oppressors who ran from his gaze now with fright. One
morning he looked out the window and noticed rain. His first response
was, “It’s a bad day today!” When he heard his own grumbling he became
disgusted with himself. He realized that he had lost his appreciation for
the new gift. He thought, “What would I have paid just for the ability to
see rain running down the pane just a few months earlier and now I’m just
a bundle of complaints.”
He was so deeply disappointed with himself that he went back to the Doctor
and asked him to reverse the procedure. The Doctor looked at him with
incredulity. However when he explained himself the wise Doctor understood
well and offered a wondrous piece of advice.
Since the anniversary of the operation was close at hand he instructed him
to make preparations for the event by inviting his close family and the
Doctor himself would come. They should set up the room with soft candle
lights and fine decorations. That night he was to put those big round
patches on again and to begin to read excerpts from his old Braille diary
to the point where the tears began to flow and all the terrible emotions
of the past were awakened, then the news of the Doctor and the operation
etc. Then the patches were to be removed. They sang together happily deep
into the night. The wise Doctor told him, “Ben, be sure to do every detail
of this procedure each year and it’s likely you’ll never lose your
feelings of abundant appreciation. Just remember, my son, never lose touch
with this night!”
Text Copyright © 2007 by Rabbi Label Lam and Torah.org.