B’Yad Chazakah:
A Pesach Seder
Companion
2nd Edition
Editor: Ayelet Nussbaum
A Project of BOO Education 2010
Hello,
Hello.
Hello,
Lechem Oni: The Real Answer
Felicia Kuperwaser ‘13
We begin Maggid, the narrative section of the Pesach seder, with "Ha Lachma Anya," "this bread of affliction." Maggid is, in many
ways, the essence of the entire seder, as we recount, question, and discuss the story of the Jews leaving Egypt. Lechem Oni, or matzah,
seems like a peripheral aspect of the narrative, and thus, a meaningless, or at least arbitrary, starting point. While it is a tangible, iconic
item in our holiday observance, it seems to have minimal bearing on the course of events of the Pesach story itself. More important than
the fact that the Jews did not let their bread rise, are the circumstances that caused the situation in the first place, and yet we begin with
matzah. Further, we recite the paragraph in Aramaic, which was the vernacular when it was added during the Babylonian exile, so it is
clearly important for everyone to understand. Given the pedagogical nature of maggid, the importance of asking and teaching, we would
assume that the paragraph that precedes the four questions highlights what we deem most relevant from an educational perspective. Even
in its capacity as an invitation to others, this paragraph seemingly should not begin with lechem oni. So why does it?
Rav Shimshon Rafael Hirsch makes a point of translating lechem oni as “bread of dependence.” He explains that this term is
particularly important because it represents the fact that even in our great moment of redemption, we remained slaves. Paroh himself did
not grant the Jews freedom. He had, after all, denied them independence many times prior. Rather, Hashem forced Paroh to push the Jews
out under a great amount of pressure. Had the Jews really been freed, they would certainly not have done so with this chipazon, or
urgency, represented by the matzah. If people had dictated the process, the Jews would have let their bread rise as normal. Then, we may
merely have viewed the situation as our good fortune that we were oppressed and then Paroh changed his mind. Even with a vague notion
that God helped us, that is not an appropriate understanding of the situation. Neither we, nor Paroh, acted with any real independence, but
rather Hashem commanded the situation and had the only true discretion. Even at the time of liberation, the Jews were subject to the
Egyptions’ oppression. The matzah and the entire prohibition of chametz represents the act that Hashem, and not Paroh, liberated us.
Thus, lechem oni appropriately informs the message of the rest of the seder and the message of Pesach: that Hashem redeemed us in order
to be His nation. Freedom is not merely lack of, but rather freedom for a purpose. The Jews were free, only so that they could devote
themselves to God, and they lived for the following years until they entered Israel, in an obviously dependent relationship with God.
This also explains why after inviting others, we mention at the end of the paragraph, and the entire seder, saying that next year we
should be in Jerusalem. We were only freed so that we could serve Hashem, and Israel is where we can live independently to serve God
and reinstitute the Korban Pesach. This first paragraph encapsulates one of the essential messages of the seder. Masechet Pesachim
(115b) says that it is the bread on which one answers things, coming from the hebrew word “laanot,” or “to answer.” Even before we
begin the questions, this bread provides answers and reminds us why all of the different parts of the Pesach story occured.
The Abudraham says that it's in the vernacular so that the malachei hashareit, or ministering angels, who don’t understand Aramaic,
don't think we're bragging about all of the miracles, and they remind us that because of our sins we did not merit redemption on our own.
Though not to be taken literally, and a little bizarre, this reinforces the essence of our relationship with God: that He freed us so that we
can independently choose to serve Him, whatever that may entail, and only then will we merit to celebrate next year in Jerusalem.
Arami Oved Avi
Jason Sugarman ‘13
In Mishnah Masechet Pesachim, perek 10 seif 4, we are taught that the appropriate way to fulfill the mitzvah of Maggid is:
.‫מתחיל בגנות ומסיים בשבח ודורש מארמי אבד אבי עד שיגמור כל הפרשה כלה‬
The Mishnah is referring to the section of the Haggadah, which begins with the words ‫צא ולמד מה ביקש לבן הארמי לעשות‬
,‫ שפרעה לא גזר אלא על הזכרים ולבן בקש לעקר את הכל‬.‫ ליעקב אבינו‬and then quotes from Devarim perek 26 pesukim 5-8, the
declaration that a person makes when he brings bikurim to the Beit Hamikdash: ‫ "ארמי אבד אבי וירד מצרימה ויגר שם במתי מעט‬,
".‫ויהי שם לגוי גדול עצום ורב‬. Why is the story of Lavan the Aramean the starting point – indeed, the major focus -- of Maggid?
Wouldn’t it make more sense to start earlier with the story of Joseph’s brothers selling him into slavery in Egypt?
Rabbi David Silber explains that the experience of Yaakov in the house of Lavan parallels and foreshadows the experience of Bnei
Yisrael in Egypt. Both are fulfillments of the brit bein habetarim, the former on a personal/familial level and the latter on a national level.
In Bereishit perek 15 pesukim 13-16, Hashem promises Avraham:
‫ וגם את הגוי אשר יעבדו דן אנכי ואחר כן וענו ועבדום יהיה זרעך בארץ לא להם גרירע תדע כי‬.‫אתם ארבע מאת שנה‬
.‫יצאו ברכוש גדול‬
The key elements of the prophecy Avraham has just received are that his descendants will experience gerut, avdut and inui -alienation (being a stranger in a foreign land), enslavement, and oppression -- followed by an exodus with great wealth. If we examine the
experience of Yaakov in the 20-plus years he spent in Lavan’s house, and the experience of Bnei Yisrael in Egypt, we will see that all these
elements are present in both.
The promise made to Avraham at the brit bein habetarim is widely understood to refer to the enslavement of Bnei Yisrael in Egypt,
even though it speaks only of “eretz lo lahem” and never specifically identifies Egypt as the foreign land being referred to. If we look at the
account of the enslavement of Yaakov’s children in Sefer Shemot, perakim 1-2, we see that all three of the key elements of the prophecy are
present. In perek 1, pesukim 11-14, the inui is mentioned twice and the avdut is mentioned five times. We learn of the gerut in perek 2
pasuk 22, when Moshe names his son Gershon and states “ki ger hayiti b’eretz nachriya”, acknowledging that even he who was brought up
in Pharaoh’s palace never felt at home there, but felt like a ger, a foreigner or stranger. Ultimately God redeems Bnei Yisrael from Egypt
and they leave with great wealth.
If we examine Parshat Vayetze, we can see the same key elements in Yaakov’s relationship with Lavan. After 20 years of slaving for
Lavan, Yaakov is told by Hashem that it’s time to leave. He sneaks out because he fears that Lavan will not permit him to go. He leaves
Hello.
Hello,
with great wealth. Lavan chases after him (just like Pharaoh chased after Bnei Yisrael) and reprimands him for escaping. During their
confrontation, Yaakov lets Lavan know how he feels about the years of enslavement )see perek 31 pesukim 36-43): Note the words
“avad’ticha” and “onyi” – avdut (enslavement) and inui (oppression). And we learn in parshat Vayishlach perek 32 pasuk 5 that Yaakov
experienced gerut (alienation) in Lavan’s house when Yaakov sends a messenger to tell his brother Esau why he waited so many years to
contact him: “Im Lavan garti, v’aychar ad atah.” Yaakov was a stranger in Lavan’s house just as Moshe and Bnei Yisrael were strangers in
Egypt. (Note Rashi’s commentary that “garti” is the same as “taryag,” meaning that Yaakov kept all 613 mitzvot in Lavan’s house. No
wonder he felt like a stranger, keeping mitzvot while his uncle was worshiping trafim, idols!)
By examining the parallels between the two stories, we can now understand why the Talmud directs us to fulfill the mitzvah of
Maggid by reciting and explicating the verses in Devarim beginning with “arami oved avi vayered mitzrayma.” The experience of Yaakov
in the house of Lavan foreshadows the experience of Bnei Yisrael in Egypt. Yaakov saw the fulfillment of Hashem’s promise to Avraham
in the brit bein habetarim on a personal/familial level, and Bnei Yisrael saw the fulfillment of that promise on a national level in the exodus
from Egypt. From this we learn that the pattern of gerut, avdut and inui, followed by redemption, repeats in Jewish history. Just as God
redeemed Yaakov from the house of Lavan and Bnei Yisrael from slavery in Egypt, so he will redeem us again from the alienation,
enslavement and oppression we experience in galut.
Zecher L’Mikdash
Zahvi Glasenberg ‘11
The seder service we follow on the first two nights of Pesach (in chutz la’aretz) reflects what can be viewed as a preoccupation with
the Beit Hamikdash. For example, the Rama brings a minhag to eat an egg zecher l’Mikdash because Tisha B’Av falls out on the same day
of the week as the first night of Pesach (Orach Chaim 476:2). The Netziv attributes a different custom, the donning of a kittel at the seder,
as zecher l’Mikdash, an echo of the robes worn by those who consumed the korban Pesach at the times of the Beit Hamikdash in a royal
manner.
It is difficult to understand why we make this connection of Sippur Yetziat Mitzrayim to the Beit Hamikdash, as they are both part of
completely distinct periods in the history of Bnei Yisrael. Furthermore, during Pesach, we begin the count to Matan Torah on Shavuot, a
different momentous event. While we are able to see the connection between churban and our loss of opportunity to bring the korban
Pesach, this does not help us trace back the connection to the actual Yetzia itself. However, a closer look at the original Pesach may help
us understand this strong tie of the seder and Sippur Yetziat Mitzrayim to the Beit Hamikdash.
The Pesach that Bnei Yisrael procured in Mitzrayim did not at all typify the average korban brought in the Beit Hamikdash. korbanot
brought in the Beit Hamikdash featured two main components: The animal’s blood was sprinkled on the mizbeach; and certain choice limbs
of the animal were burnt on the mizbeach. It is difficult to even consider the Pesach brought in Mitzrayim a true korban or offering, as not
only was it lacking both of these core components, but there was no “offering” involved; it was just one big festive meal where people
consumed a lot of meat!
While lacking the core “korban” components illustrated above, it is not so easy to make the distinction between the Pesach of
Mitzrayim and korbanot. The Torah’s presentation of the laws of this Pesach Mitzrayim are quite similar to those of korbanot: The
commandment of “lo totieeru mimenu ad haboker”; the issur of leaving any meat over to the morning and the requirement to burn all that
is left over, in addition to the standards of the animal itself (one-year old blemish-free) are characteristic of hilchot korbanot explained in
the Torah.
We see that on one hand, the Pesach of Mitzrayim seems to be more of a meal than a korban, but other components suggest that it fall
into the category of a korban! Moreover, one strong detail creates a distinction between the Pesach of Mitzrayim and the korban Pesach
itself brought in the Beit Hamikdash later on: Location of consumption. According to the chukim of the Korban Pesach, it may not be
consumed outside of the Temple Mount in Yerushalayim. Men, women, and children would travel across the country to be able to perform
this mitzvah. With regards to the Pesach of Mitzrayim, the opposite is stipulated: "None of you shall go outside the door of his house until
morning” (Shemot 12:22). Unlike the korban Pesach in Eretz Yisrael, in Mitzrayim, the consumption of the Pesach was confined to each
household.
Rav Yonatan Grossman points out that it is this distinctive location of consumption in Mitzrayim that makes this Pesach a true korban.
The Gemara (Pesachim 96a) brings the view of Rav Yosef: "Rav Yosef taught: There were three altars there - the lintel and the two doorposts." Unlike the seder of korbanot in the Mishkan and Mikdash, because there were no real altars in Mitzrayim, there was no real chiyuv
of zerikat hadah, sprinkling the blood. However, the Torah is very specific with regards to what must be done with the blood of the Pesach
sheep-it must be smeared on the lintel and the doorposts of each household. This specification serves more than the purpose of classifying
the Pesach as a korban, rather it goes as far as to designate each house in Mitzrayim in which the Pesach was eaten as a mizbeach. Far from
eating their Pesach in mere houses, in Mitzrayim, Bnei Yisrael were all eating on their own private mizbechot. Each household became a
space filled with Hashem’s presence, and each meal was its own korban which signified a new level of proximity Bnei Yisrael were finally
able to reach with Hashem. We now see that there is no difference between the eating locations of Pesach Mitzrayim and Pesach Yisraelboth were required to be eaten in a place filled with the Divine presence.
We now understand the connection between the Pesach of Mitzrayim to the Beit Hamikdash. For the first time, on the evening before
their departure from Mitzrayim, Bnei Yisrael experienced their first korban as their households morphed into pseudo-mikdashim.
At the seder, the korech sandwich is eaten zecher l’Mikdash. However, we state this commemoration explicitly before actually eating,
which, according to some opinions including the Mishneh Brurah, constitutes a hefseik. However, the prevalent practice is to say this
paragraph, highlighting the importance of zechirat hamikdash at our seder table.
This idea is also seen in our central piece of Maggid: Arami Oved Avi, the parsha that we use to retell the story of our servitude and
redemption. A common question is posed concerning this choice of parsha, as it would seem much more appropriate to choose a passage
from Sefer Shemot that more clearly illustrated the true historical transition from slavery to freedom. However, Arami Oved Avi is special
in that it connects the descent to Mitzrayim to “veyevieinu el hamakon hazeh”, the bringing of Bnei Yisrael to the period of the Beit
Hello.
Hello,
Hamikdash. (Note: Rav Soloveitchik notes that originally this last pasuk was included in the Maggid recitation of this passage but was
omitted only post-churban.)
The mourning we bring into the seder with the custom of having eggs is very fitting, as by recalling the original Pesach we are not
only remembering the korban, but the Mikdash we were zoche to experience on that night, and on subsequent Pesachim in the Mishkan and
the Beit Hamikdash.
May we be zoche to use these zichronot l’Mikdash to effectively recall and retell the story of Yetziat Mitzrayim, but may we also
utilize them to remember the level of closeness we were able to reach at that point, and strive to attain that closeness again by working
towards the rebuilding of the Beit Hamikdash.
Parent’s Relationship with the Four Sons
Rabbi Elliot Kaplowitz, Co-Director of JLI at Brandeis University
We are all familiar with the Haggadah's description of the ‫ ארבע בנים‬the four children. As a child growing up I would secretly
hope that as my family went around the table, taking turns reading from the haggadah, I would get to read the passage of the chacham, the
wise child. At the very least I hoped I would not have to read about the rasha, the wicked child.
There are two difficulties that I find in the Haggadah's depiction of the chacham. The text reads:
‫ אין מפט‬,‫ירין חכםצ מה הוא אומר? מה העדות וחוקים והמשפטים אשר צוה ה' אלקינו אתכם? ואף אתה אמר לו כחלכות הפסח‬
.‫אחר הפסח אפיקומן‬
The wise son, what does he say? What are the testimonies and the decrees and the ordinances that Hashem our Lord has commanded
you? You, in turn, shall instruct him in the laws of Passover [up to] one is not to eat any dessert after the Passover lamb.
1. The first problem I find with this text is that rasha, the evil child, is called evil because his question is posed in the second
person. He is criticized for having excluded himself from the equation. Why then, do we not find a similar rebuke of the
chacham whose question is framed in the exact same manner?
2. The translation of the answer given to the chacham is inaccurate. Firstly, it should read "EVEN you shall instruct him in the
laws of Passover…" Our translation skips the word
‫( אף‬even). Secondly, if the Haggadah wanted to say to teach him the
‫ אמור לו‬Instead the text says ‫ אמור לו כהלכות הפסח‬which
laws of Passover it would have read ...‫את הלכות הפסח‬
literally means "tell him LIKE THE LAWS of Passover."
What does this mean? The way that I understand the Haggadah's instructions is that the ‫ בן החכם‬is a child whose Jewish education
and/or practice surpasses that of his or her parents'. Either the wise child has received a superior education, or it is a child who is more
frum than their parents. In either case, the chacham relates to the holiday and to Jewish life in general through the details of halacha. In
such a circumstance, the parent may feel inadequate in addressing the questions the child asks, or incapable of engaging the child in
serious, meaningful Jewish conversation.
The Haggadah's response to the parent is ‫" – אף אתה אמר לו‬EVEN you shall instruct him in the laws of Passover…" Even if your
child has rebbeim, teachers, and mentors YOU TOO have something to say to your child. You the parent can answer the questions posed
by your children. And what is the answer –
‫" – כהלכות הפסח‬like the halachot of Pesach." The parent may not know all of the details of the chacham's questions, but
nonetheless has a responsibility to begin a conversation that bears a resemblance to the halachot of Pesach. The Haggadah's directives to
such a parent is, "Explain to your child why all of this matters to you, what the significance of Pesach is for you. Share with them the
memories you have of Pesach with your parents and grandparents. Tell them why the story of the Pesach inspires you." As long as the
parent is respectful and honest with their children, they have a lot of insight that no teacher or rabbi can offer.
The goal of the seder is not to allow the details and intricacies of the halacha to become the focal point of our attention and our
conversation. The details are important, but the seder is about more than that. It is about forming those connections, finding ways to make
Pesach personally meaningful and inspiring.
I believe that this insight explains our first difficulty with the Haggadah's presentation of the chacham. Namely, why is he not
criticized for posing his question in the second person, when the rasha was so harshly criticized for doing the same thing? The answer is
that when the chacham asks his parents what is the meaning of this to you, he sincerely wants to know their personal connections to the
Pesach experience. This child is not being rude or insincere. Rather, he turns to his parents and says: "Ima, Abba. Tell me something
about Pesach and its relevance to us that my teachers can't share with me."
While this explanation of the chacham is directed primarily to parents, it carries an important lesson for us, as children, as well. Each
one of us enters into Pesach with different hopes, expectations, anxieties and concerns. If the parents are instructed to engage the chacham
in conversation about Pesach despite the parents' reservations, then it is our job – as wise students – to listen to what our parents (and
grandparents and other family members) have to say. By going into the holiday with this attitude, it will allow everyone at the seder table
to have a personally meaningful Pesach.
Hidden Connections
Noah Fields ‘12
With the passing of rosh chodesh Nissan, our focus turns to Pesach (and away from Tachanun). Some of us increase awareness by
cleaning their rooms, or singing Pesach songs, or even yelling “Good Pesach!” at the top of their lungs. Others turn to study the laws of
Pesach (a very commendable endeavor) or go through the Haggadah with commentary. No matter how we do it, we all (hopefully),
increase our awareness of the upcoming holiday – each in our own way.
Hello.
Hello,
In my own preparation, I read through bits of the Haggadah. One part that struck me in my gloss was the rendering of the Four Sons.
I was not so much struck by the commentaries of the Sons, as I have read or heard a lot of them before. Rather, I was intrigued by the
context and placement of the Four Sons. Coming after Baruch Hamakom seems like an odd place to put them. In considering the Four
Sons, Baruch Hamakom, and their respective commentators I began to see a connection between the two, ultimately leading me to support
their juxtaposition.
In reading through most of the commentaries, I was astonished to find that most found the Four Sons and Baruch Hamakom to be
entirely separate ideas. Most in fact said that Baruch Hamakom is a prayer introducing the telling of the Pesach story. Other
commentaries related that there was, effectively, no reason for Baruch Hamakom and the Four Sons to be together. Resolute in the belief
that the seder (order) is important, I continued to search for commentaries, hoping one would at least refute (rather than ignore) the
juxtaposition of these two texts. Finally, I came across Orchot Chaim, who said that the four Baruch's in Baruch Hamakom were in
parallel to the Four Sons. Unfortunately, though, he didn't delve into these connections.
Reassured that at least one commentator linked Baruch Hamakom to the Four Sons, I delved into the texts themselves, to find any
connection I could. The most visible connection is in the word, K'Neged, similar or against. Most readers interpret this as a statement
“Regarding ….”. In my reading, though, K'Neged actually means “(Baruch Hamakom) is parallel (or corresponding) to (the Four Sons)”.
The second connection is the equivalent numeracy of repetitions in the words Baruch and Echad, both qualifiers of G-d. Albeit, this does
not provide great support for the idea, it does provide break points from which to analyze the parallel between the Sons and the sections of
Baruch Hamakom. Despite the lack of concrete evidence that these two were related, I began exploring the apparent themes.
As discussed above, the similar word structure provided a basis for which to split the texts and create parallel. As there are four
Baruch's, each one should correspond to each Son in order of appearance. The first Baruch, Baruch Hamakom, then would be parallel to
the first son, the wise son; the second Baruch, Baruch Hu, would be parallel to the second son, the wicked son; and so forth. In addition
the repetition of Baruch Hu splits the Baruch Hamakom piece into two parts, each with a Baruch Hu at the end, resulting in two parallel
grouping of the Sons.
The first group, the Wise Son and the Wicked Son, parallel to Baruch Hamakom/Baruch Hu, deals with the idea of emunah, faith in
G-d. The Wise Son, as we all know, seeks to serve G-d by understanding the commandments and learning the ways in which to connect to
G-d. The Wicked Son, by contrast, seeks to separate himself from the idea of G-d. He has no belief that G-d rescued the Israelites and
probably doesn't believe in G-d at all. For this reason, we say that the Wicked Son would not have been rescued from Egypt.
Interestingly, the first two Baruch's also connect to these same ideas. The first verse, Baruch Hamakom is a blessing for G-d, but
oddly does not use the accustomed name of G-d. Rather it uses the name, Makom, or place. This name for G-d is derived from the idea
Hashem hu mekomo olam, G-d is the place of the world; the world exists as a result of G-d and is found 'in' G-d, but G-d exists without the
world and exists 'out' of it. This idea corresponds to the Wise Son's faith. In a number of commentaries, the Wise Son questions not just
the laws of G-d, but also their function and purpose, or rather their place in the world of G-d. Furthermore, our response to the the Wise
Son speaks of the afikoman, which in our seder is the piece of matzah separated and then hidden – representing that unity of everything in
G-d (note: not as G-d) is a hidden reality and must be sought. The Wicked Son, on the other hand is the Baruch Hu response, the blessed is
HE - HE who has no purpose or meaning for me. As noted earlier, he separates himself from G-d, creating a rift between himself and
everything (which is why he is Wicked).
While as the first group exists within the theological realm of belief, the second group deals with chavaya, experience. More than
anything else, the seder is about re-experiencing the Exodus (“In each generation we are required to see ourselves as if we had exited from
Egypt”). The retelling of the story, the questions, our discussions, the food, all of Pesach is a part of connecting to the experience. The
Simple Son's question is the epitome of trying to take part in this experience. “What is this?”*, the Simple Son asks. His question is
directed at all that is happening around him, trying to understand the meaning of the different rituals we have and what he's supposed to get
from them. We answer accordingly, saying “With a strong hand G-d released us from bondage to the Egyptians,” the core of our
experience. In contrast, the Question-less Son (alt: the son who doesn't know [how] to ask), doesn't connect to the events of the seder. It is
debatable as to whether this son chooses to isolate himself or has no choice in the matter. Either way, by remaining quiet he isolates
himself from the experience of the seder and his fellow Jews. As a result we explain, “Because of what G-d did for me in my Exodus from
Egypt,” enticing the son to connect, if not to the transition itself from slavery to freedom, what G-d in the interim. Taking these ideas as a
whole, we see that the Simple and the Question-less Sons demonstrate the epitome or lack of experience.
This connection to experience carries back to (or rather forward from) the second section of Baruch Hamakom. Baruch Shenatan
Torah L'Amo Yisrael / Baruch Hu (Blessed is He who gave Torah to his people / blessed is he). Again, the text doesn't mention G-d by
name. In this case, though, the text references an action of G-d, rather than a quality of His. Even at first glance, the experiential aspect
glares out at us. Aside from the Exodus (perhaps more so), the most momentous event was the giving of the Torah, Matan Torah. This
event is the epitome of experience, with G-d appearing as directly as possible before all of Israel, hence the stress on L'Amo Yisrael. In the
event of experiencing G-d's presence we become confused if not befuddled, many times not understanding how everything goes back to Gd. This reverberates with the idea of experience expressed by the Simple child. The Baruch Hu, as in the first group is a refutation of the
previous statement, in this context becoming a denial of the Divine experience. By saying “Hu” (HIM), the voice of the Question-less Son
dissociates himself from the experience of G-d around him. In combination, the second group realizes and recognizes the acceptance or
rejection of the experience with G-d.
Each of theses groups seems to have its own themes and ideas. How, then, do they fit together? In the general understanding of the
Four Sons, each son has a different trait or aspect, leading him to ask a specific question. Furthermore, we generally qualify them as 'good'
or bad'. Similar to this division, I would suggest that each group represents a different persona. The first group being Jews who connect
(or refuse to connect) to G-d through bitachon, emunah, and halacha. The second group would refer to Jews who connect through chavaya
and more spiritual means. Just as in the traditional interpretation of the Four Sons the qualities are not meant to be exclusive, neither are
these types exclusive. Every person has their own unique combination of these two types of connections to G-d, not just one or the other.
As such, it is not how we connect to G-d that matters, but rather our dedication to connect to G-d in our own way.
Chag Kasher V'Sameach!
* Interestingly the text for this quote comes from the commandment for Pidyon HaBen, which is another experiential moment.
Hello.
Hello,
Hello.
Hello,
CHAG KASHER V’SAMEACH!
Hello.