Published: 9 April 2020
Last updated: 4 March 2024
OUR FAMILY HAS ALWAYS done Pesach in our own particular way. Our Haggadah evolves from year to year but is made up mostly of Yiddish, some English and a smattering of Hebrew.
Our Seder is light on religious orthodoxy and there are few prayers. But Pesach for me is the most important of all Jewish festivals. Retelling the story of the Exodus helps me commune with my ancestors even though our secular Seder might be unrecognisable to them.
I choose to believe the story is at least partly based on true events - that a group of slaves really did fight for their freedom and escaped from Egypt thousands of years ago.
Pesach reminds me every year of the broader obligation we have to others in our society and the wellbeing of strangers, beyond simply refusing to accept obvious injustice and modern-day slavery.
I thought about how our community obligations had apparently vanished as I stared at empty supermarket shelves, cleared out by people hoarding much more than they could reasonably need for themselves.
The generous spirit that we celebrated during the bushfires all but evaporated when our own wellbeing was directly threatened. I smugly thought, “I’m not one of them”, as I resisted the urge to stockpile toilet paper and dried pasta.
But when a workmate put out a call for children’s Panadol on social media for a friend, I chose to scroll past rather than help a stranger when it could have been so easy.
'I don’t care about presents,' my daughter cried. 'I just want to see my friends.' I realised in that moment how badly her sense of community had been ruptured.
I later wondered if I was any better than those people ignoring social distancing rules as they packed cafes and flocked to beaches despite pleas from political leaders to stay home and save the lives of others more vulnerable to the coronavirus.
This time of isolation will be the darkest many of us have experienced in our lifetimes. Beyond the risk of the virus infecting people I love, I worry most about the emotional toll on children. I cannot imagine how bewildering and lonely this must be for them.
My daughter will turn eight this month. We assured her she would still get plenty of presents as we gently broke the news that she could not have a party on her birthday or even anytime soon. “I don’t care about presents,” she cried. “I just want to see my friends.” I realised in that moment how badly her sense of community had been ruptured.
Despite the health crisis, it is heartening to see the communal spirit many children and young people have shown despite our isolation.
In their own way, they have risen to this challenge however they can. They have perched teddy bears on windowsills to prop up the spirits of strangers walking past.
Going out to exercise and spot teddies pressed up against the windows of houses and apartments in our neighbourhood is now the highlight of my family’s day.
Regular meetings have been cancelled at the Jewish youth movement my daughter joined this year. But instead of taking the easy option to scrap all activities until the restrictions are lifted, the leaders quickly adapted their programs so all meetings could still go ahead online. Other movements have done the same.
These young volunteers have stepped up in this crisis, helping children remain connected as they struggle for some semblance of a routine. Their commitment, regardless of political persuasion, is a flicker of light in the darkness of COVID-19.
Just before social restrictions kicked in to curb the spread of coronavirus my daughter struck up a pen pal relationship with another Jewish girl in Chicago. Both girls were curious about the conditions in the other country, so they decided to ditch email for the immediacy of video chatting instead.
They compared restrictions and promised they would meet up straight after this is all over. In their own way, I think they were offering each other emotional support and respite from all the stress. They chose to strengthen their connection during a pandemic. Young people have given me hope amid the overwhelming news that surrounds us every day.
Once this plague is finally over and we can leave our homes whenever we choose, it is the generosity and community spirit they have shown that will help free us from the oppression of this nightmare.
READ MORE
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‘I remember my father, before the war, hanging a matzo on the wall,’ my wife’s grandmother murmured, entranced. Suddenly, there sat a young Polish child
Israel sends matzahs, Passover items to Jews in… Egypt (Times of Israel)
Foreign Ministry says boxes of kosher for Passover food went to tiny Jewish communities in Cairo and Alexandria
Illustration: John Kron
