The Maggid | Passover haggadah by Stefani

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Leader: This is the story of slavery and of liberation. This is the story of our ancestors. This is our story.

Participant: My name is Joseph, and this story begins with me. I came to Egypt as a slave, betrayed by my brothers and sold into a life of bondage. I had always had visions and been an interpreter of dreams and this gift served me well in my captivity. My abilities allowed Egypt to prepare for the most devastating famine anyone could remember and because of this, I became the most powerful man in Egypt, second only to the Pharaoh. I was reunited with my family and they came to live with me in this land. We lived in peace for generations.

Participant: I am Pharaoh, God-King of Egypt. Joseph is long dead and I do not know his name. I care not who he was. I only care that these Hebrews are outnumbering my own people. They will not take our customs or our names. They are not my people and they do not serve my gods. They WILL serve me. These Hebrews are like rats– no matter what we do to them, they continue to breed.

Participant: My name is Shifrah. My sister Puah and I are the chief midwives to the Hebrew people. Today, we were called before Pharaoh. He has ordered us to kill all the male children. We stood in silence and wept. In my heart, I refused. I will not. I cannot. Pharaoh mistook our silence for compliance.

Participant: I am Puah. My sister Shifrah and I do not obey the Pharaoh’s command and so, we were called before him again as we knew that we would be. We were prepared. We hold him “the Hebrew women are unlike Egyptian women, for they are experts regarding their bodies. Before we even arrive, they have already given birth.” Our story saved our lives, blessed be HaShem, but it will not save the children. We stood and wept silent tears as Pharaoh ordered his soldiers to throw all our Hebrew boys into the Nile.

Participant: Today, I had a boy. Today, a son was born to Yocheved and Amram. I should be happy, but I can only weep. If the soldiers find him, they will drown him in the river. Instead, I sent him to God’s hands; hiding my youngest son in a basket and sending him floating down the Nile.

Participant: I found a child in the river today. I knew he was a Hebrew child, and a boy at that. He should be left to die, but I cannot. I drew him from the water, from his hiding place amongst the reeds. He will be MY son, my Moses. Should my brother the Pharaoh discover my treachery, I will be killed. May the God of the Hebrews protect my Moses, and my Isis the All-Mother protect me.

Participant: I am Moses, a Prince of Egypt. Why did I save that slave? Why did I kill the Overseer who beat him? It was within his rights to whip a disobedient slave. Yesterday, I was a Prince. Today, I am no different than that slave. Why did she tell me the truth? I am no more than a finely dressed slave...and a murderer as well. I must leave all that I know and love, in order to save my worthless life.

Participant: He came into the land of Midian and married me, Zipporah, daughter of Jethro. He speaks little of his past but I know it was a hard one. Moses named our son Gershom, which means “I have been a stranger in a strange land.” Today, while tending my father’s flock, Moses came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There, my husband says that the God of Abraham and Sarah, of Isaac and Rebecca, Leah and Rachel spoke to him through a burning bush. He says the flames burned with a white-hot intensity and yet the plant stayed lush and verdant green. He says that the Lord told him that he must go back to Egypt and demand that Pharaoh release the Hebrew slaves. And so, we go…

Participant: Yesterday, I was only Aaron, son of Amram and Yocheved, a slave born of slaves. Today, I am the brother of Moses the liberator. I am sent before Pharaoh to speak for my brother. I stand unafraid before the kind and say “thus saith the Lord, the God of Israel: Let my people go.” He refused, of course.

Participant: The Angel of Death answers to no man. Through the nine plagues, the heart of Pharaoh has remained hard. But tonight comes the tenth plague. Today, I come. And when I depart, the first-born of Egypt shall follow me. The Pharaoh’s son shall follow me.

Participant: On this darkest of nights, I force myself to remember. I am the last of the generation that came to Egypt. I am older than I can remember and have long lost my husband and children to time and Death. The young ones ask one another “how can Serach live so long?” I have long considered it to be a curse. No one should live as a slave for as long as I have– especially when you remember what it is to be free. Tonight, I know why I have continued to breathe. I am the only one who can fulfill the promise to Joseph. I am the only one who remembers where the bones are buried. Tonight, I will be free. Tonight, this old woman will carry Joseph’s bones with his people into freedom.

Participant: We’re across! We’re safe! The waters have rushed to cover the army of Pharaoh, may HaShem be praised. I cannot keep from raising my timbrel and leading the women in joyful song. “Sing to the Spirit of the Universe, for this glorious triumph! The horse and it’s rider have been thrown into the sea!” I dance and the women follow me. I am Miriam, the Prophetess. I am the sister of Moses who crept along the banks of the Nile, keeping watch over my baby brother all those years ago. Sing with me, a song of freedom. Today, the Children of Israel will begin our long journey home– to the land we have not seen for generations.

haggadah Section: -- Exodus Story

Source: Peeling a Pomegranate Haggadah