I love Pesach. Always did. I love the regal magnificence of the seder table. I don't like matza but I like the Romaine lettuce and I love the charoset. I love the intrigue of the rituals and the fascinating symbolism. I love how every year, there's always something new to discuss about the Haggada no matter how many times you've read it. I love that every year or two, there's another child that becomes "of age" to recite or sing the Ma Nishtana. I thank G-d for that blessing and hope those children love singing the Ma Nishtana their whole lives. I love the little seder plates, haggadas, pillows, and afikoman bags carefully decorated in school and sent home in plastic bags and put away so they don't get "chametzdik" before Pesach. I love the spell-bound awe that settles over Mordechai when he listens as I tell the story of the ten makos again, even though he's heard it before so many times. I love the buzz that gives Hallel and Nirtza extra spirit. I love that I can go out with the kids even though I'm in Brooklyn and there's no eruv. I love the girls in their new spring clothes: beautiful smocked dresses with sashes tied behind them, skirts billowing over their petticoats, dimpled elbows peeking from under puffed sleeves. I love the daffodils that signal the start of spring, heralding the arrival of Chag He'aviv. I love that little game the children play - shavur oh lo shavur (broken or not?) - the one that I played when my brothers and I were growing up. I love the beautiful songs and tunes that seem like they've been sung forever. I love the breeze that comes in when we open the door to let in Eliyahu Ha'navi, to let in a whiff of pure spirit into our homes.
Here's hoping we all join together for next year's seder, a seder to surpass all those past, in the city of our dreams restored to its former glory, Yerushalayim.