Noon on Thursday. All I have left is to clean off the counters and change the dishes, sweep and mop, sell our chametz and think about room set up. As I write this greeting to all of you, I want to reflect on the good that surrounds me. I am being covid careful, and gradually widening my sphere. I am the proud caretaker of two beasts (a cat and a dog), l live in a great neighborhood, and my puppy has introduced me to new friends, both four and two legged. I have a great family, a great group of friends, and a great synagogue community. I have over-purchased food for the week, filled my gas tank, and when I can, I am enjoying all the new growth around my house and others. I am privileged.

Tomorrow night - as we sit around the table, eating and drinking, telling our stories and singing - I will also be thinking about those whom we have lost over the years and past weeks. I will think of those close to home and far away who are hungry, tired, homeless, and running from danger.  Isn’t that our history as well? We begin the haggadah by inviting all those who are hungry to come and eat. Isn’t that one of our deepest wishes for the world? We will talk about a people who came from the dust of the earth, prospered, lost it all, and then were enslaved to a theocratic monarchy that oppressed strangers. Miraculously they were freed from slavery but then had to learn to become a community that cared for others. They had to learn to relate to a God idea that was greater than themselves, and Who reminded them that they were part of a very large system. I often see Pesach as a personal reminder of my privilege and therefore my obligation to use that privilege for the betterment of humanity. As I sit before a table full of friends and family, overflowing with food, I will ponder, “Let all who are hungry come and eat,” and, “We were slaves to Pharoah in Egypt.”

May each one of you have a meaningful, liberating and sweet Pesach.