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Passover/Easter

  • Nancy Kelton
  • Apr 18
  • 1 min read

(updated version of April 3, 2012 Passover/Easter Blog)

 

On Easter Sundays when I was young

We went to the Buffalo Zoo

To participate in the egg hunts

We found nothing, had no clue.



 

Until we spoke to the egg-hider

Dad always knew “The Man”

He led us to the hiding places

We gathered pastel eggs and ran

 

To the booth to collect our prizes

Chocolate bunnies we took home

We ate our bunnies that same day

But this is not the end of my poem.

 

Passover was more than an egg hunt

It meant the world to me

We had Seders at Aunt Yetta’s

She lived downstairs of Grandma D.

 

 

Uncle Lou or Dad conducted

We had every homemade dish

Chopped liver with schmaltz, hard matzo balls

And Grandma’s gefilte fish.

 

Uncle Lou’s Seders went on and on

Dad happily skipped pages

Four questions were asked by eight first cousins

We came in a wide-range of ages.

 


We left Buffalo for work and marriage

And no longer returned for the Seder

Grandma Davidoff moved to Heaven

The next generation went later.

 

I didn’t make schmaltzy liver

When alone, then with Jonathan made Seders

Our grown kids asked four questions

It continues getting later.

 

Family photos surround me now

I hold one of Dad and Mum.

 

 

                The End

 



 
 
 

10 Comments


.
Apr 22

Thank you for your kind words. It means a lot to hear from you. XXX nancy


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Harilyn Rousso
Apr 19

Beautiful piece.

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lanikaskel
Apr 19

Lovely poem! It evokes memories for me. xoxo, Lani

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Guest
Apr 18

Lovely memories. And you continue to make them. -Liz

Edited
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mara kurtz
Apr 18

Very sweet. Happy holidays. Mara 🐣

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