New York - The Novel

grandson again?”
    “I don’t know. Soon, I expect.”
    “Adele says he took you out to dinner in the city.”
    “Is nothing private?”
    “She says he likes you very much.”
    “She knows this?”
    “Yes, he told her so. He’s a very good doctor.”
    “I believe it.”
    “Well, I won’t interfere.”
    “That’s good to know.”
    Charlie had been listening so carefully that he almost lost the thread of the conversation he was having with Rachel about her children. What doctor? When did Sarah have dinner with him?
    Then it was time to begin. The table was laid magnificently. Every bit of silverware had been polished until it gleamed. As the meal took its slow, ceremonial course, Rachel or her mother would explain what was happening, with one of Sarah’s brothers occasionally chiming in.
    “The
mitzvah
of Passover is to teach the next generation about our bondage and deliverance out of Egypt,” Rachel told him. “So, the ceremony is in two parts. The first is to remind us of our slavery in Egypt; the second is to remember our freedom.”
    “And that’s the
matzo
, the unleavened bread,” said Charlie, looking at a plate at one end of the table.
    “Right. Three
matzos
. Also, on the Seder plate, we have bitter herbs, to remind us of the bitterness of slavery. And
charoset
—that’s like a paste—for the mortar the Jewish slaves used when we built the storehouses of Egypt; for a vegetable, we have parsley. This we shall dip in salt water, to remind us of our tears. Also, as symbols, we have roasted egg, and roasted lamb-shank bone. During the meal we shall also drink four cups of wine—grape juice for the little ones—to remind us of the four promises God made to us.”
    Dr. Adler commenced the Seder with a blessing, which was followed by the washing of hands. The vegetable was dipped in salt water, the middle
matzo
broken in two, and then the telling of the first Passover began.
    As the evening slowly progressed, Charlie watched with admiration. He’d never realized how beautiful it was. When the invitation to the Seder was recited, not in Hebrew but in Aramaic, it struck him with great force that, of course, these were exactly the proceedings that Jesus must have followed at the Last Supper. And as he considered the crisp New England Episcopalians he knew so well, he wondered how many of them truly understood the rich Middle Eastern texture to which their own religion belonged.
    Then came the time for the youngest of Rachel’s children to ask the Four Questions, beginning with: “Why is this night different from all other nights?”
    How moving it was. Charlie thought of Thanksgiving, the most rooted family celebration in the American tradition, and the joyful sharing of food. Thanksgiving was real. It was important, and it was already over three centuries old. Christmas, of course, was an ancient festival. But modern Christmas celebrations, the dinner and the Christmas tree, and even Santa Claus—the things which made Christmas for everyone now—these customs weren’t nearly as old as Thanksgiving, if the truth were told. Yet here in Jewish households was a tradition going back not for centuries, but millennia.
    And all the time, the children were being instructed. The Telling of thePassover, the Four Questions, the meaning of the Seder—the children had to participate actively in these. At some length, Dr. Adler spoke to them about the significance of the affliction and the delivery out of Egypt, and they enumerated the Ten Plagues. Then came the second cup of wine, another hand-washing, and blessings before the meal.
    As the ritual of the Seder went on through the evening, Charlie was not only moved but impressed. Dr. Adler’s face, so warm and fatherly, might have been that of any man sharing a meal with his grandchildren. Yet under it all was a passion, an intensity that Charlie could only admire. These people had respect: for tradition, for education, for the things of the spirit.
    Were such things to be found among the Gentiles? Certainly, in the families of professors, schoolteachers and the clergy, but not with this intensity. Sarah’s family belonged to a community which was conscious of roots going back three thousand years and believing, at least, that they had received the divine fire from the hand of God Himself.
    Late that night, as he left to drive back to Manhattan, he parted from Sarah and her family, moved with a new respect and admiration.

    Of course, he asked