Tonight, we will explore how recovery from substance use disorder connects to the traditions of Passover. Whether you are still using, you are in recovery, or you are supporting someone who is in recovery, you are invited to share your personal stories of liberation.

In Hebrew, seder means “order.” In the context of Passover, a seder is a ceremonious meal that includes a series of rituals to commemorate the story of Exodus. The haggadah (“telling” in Hebrew) is the text that guides us through the sequence of the seder and explains the significance of its customs.

This haggadah is simply here to remind us of a traditional seder’s framework and to inspire conversation– we can follow it, we can change it, or we can ignore it! We can choose new symbols of bitterness, sweetness, and rebirth. The Jewish tradition is to feel as if we ourselves are the Israelites in Egypt, so it is our duty to create customs that will make the experience even more real for us.

When the word “recovery” appears in this haggadah, feel free to interpret it however feels best to you. Maybe to you, recovery means going to meetings. Maybe it’s seeing your counselor. Maybe it’s meditating or walking the dog. When you see the term “use,” it can refer to any action that you believe has a negative impact on your wellness, not just substance use. Tonight, recovery is about finding a healthy lifestyle that serves you emotionally, mentally, and physically – whether you have personally struggled with substance use or not. Any process of tending to your wellbeing is a journey to freedom.

The Seder Plate

We place a seder plate on our table as a reminder to discuss certain aspects of the Passover story.

Each item has its own significance:

• Maror  – A bitter herb symbolizes the harshness of the Jews’ lives in Egypt.
• Charoset  – A mix of fruits and nuts represents the mortar Jewish slaves used to build Egyptian cities.
• Karpas  – A green vegetable, usually parsley, serves as a reminder of the green sprouting up all around us during spring. It can also represent the time during which Jewish society flourished before the period of their enslavement began.
• Zeroah   – A roasted lamb shank bone symbolizes the animal sacrifice made the night the ancient Israelites fled Egypt.
• Beitzah  – An egg symbolizes another sacrifice offering the ancient Israelites made. The roundness of the egg also symbolizes the cycle of life – the continuous, circular flow of life, death, and rebirth.
• Orange  – The tradition of putting an orange on the seder plate came from Jewish feminist scholar Susannah Heschel. In the 1980s, she was speaking on a panel at Oberlin College, where she came across a haggadah written by some students that suggested putting a crust of bread on the seder plate. The crust was meant to express solidarity with Jewish lesbians after a rabbi’s wife had pronounced, “There’s as much room for a lesbian in Judaism as there is for a crust of bread on the seder plate.” Heschel felt that to put bread on the seder plate would be to accept that the members of the Jewish queer community violate Judaism like chametz (leavened food) violates Passover. Instead, she put an orange on her seder plate to symbolize the fruitfulness of the Jewish people when it includes everyone, regardless of gender identity or sexual orientation.

Matzah

Matzah is the unleavened bread we eat to remember that when the Jews fled Egypt, they didn’t have time to let their dough rise first. Many commemorate this by removing all chametz from their homes before Passover and by abstaining from eating such foods for the eight days of the holiday.
 

Elijah’s Cup

We will fill this cup later in the seder in honor of the prophet Elijah, who, according to tradition, will arrive one day as an unknown guest to herald the arrival of the Messiah.
 

Miriam’s Cup

We will also fill Miriam’s cup during the seder. This tradition acknowledges Miriam’s role in the story of the Jewish people, and it honors the spirit of all women, who nurture their families just as Miriam helped sustain the Israelites.

What items could be added or changed to represent recovery?

Although we say this blessing over our drink, it is not the juice we are sanctifying. Instead, the juice is a symbol of the sanctity, preciousness, and sweetness of this moment. Together, we will leave behind the moments from our day that are still occupying us and bring our full selves to this moment.

Let us sanctify this evening together with the following blessings:

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, bo-rei pe-ri ha-gafen.

We acknowledge the Unity of All, and we express gratitude for the fruit of the vine.

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha-olam, shehecheyanu v'ki'manu v'higi-anu laz'man hazeh.

We acknowledge the Unity of All, and we express gratitude for being alive,
for having what we need, and for reaching this moment in time.

We clean our hands before we continue, washing away the old to make space for the new.

In the Torah, hands often represent “action” and “doing.”

What actions do you take for your recovery?

What actions are you reluctant to take?

What shmutz (Yiddish for “dirt”) in your life would you like to be rid of?

Passover, like many Jewish holidays, combines the celebration of a biblical or historical event with the recognition of nature’s cycles. As we remember our liberation from Egypt, we also recognize the stirrings of spring and rebirth happening in the world around us. We look forward to spring and the reawakening of flowers and greenery. They haven’t been lost, just buried beneath the snow, getting ready for reappearance when we most need them.

We now take a vegetable, a symbol of our joy at the dawning of spring after a long, cold winter. We now dip it into salt water twice, a symbol of the tears our ancestors shed as slaves.

Before we eat it, we recite a short blessing:

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, borei p’ree ha-adama.

We acknowledge the Unity of All, and we express gratitude for the fruit of the earth.

What elements of your life do you hope to revive this spring?

There are three pieces of matzah stacked on the table. We now break the middle matzah into two pieces. The leader wraps up the larger of the two pieces and, at some point between now and the end of dinner, hides it. This piece is called the afikomen, which is “dessert” in Greek. After dinner, the guests will have to hunt for the afikomen. Whoever finds it wins a prize!

We eat matzah in memory of the quick flight of our ancestors from Egypt. As slaves, they had faced many false starts before finally being freed. So, when the word of their freedom came, they took whatever dough they had and ran with it before it had the chance to rise, leaving it looking something like matzah.

The leader uncovers and raises the three pieces of matzah and says:

This is the bread of poverty that our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt.
All who are hungry, come and eat; all who are needy, come and celebrate Passover with us.
This year we are slaves; next year we will be free.

We pause here to acknowledge those who are in pain in our own communities, whether from poverty, hunger, illness, or any other affliction. As we have felt our own suffering, we must reach out and help those who are still suffering. It is an important lesson in Judaism and in recovery that we learn from our experiences in order to help others. How do you use your experience to help others?

- - -

In a way, matzah represents a shift in priorities. When they were finally freed, our ancestors prioritized their escape over their bread rising. Such a decision may seem trivial and obvious, but it has had a significant impact on how we remember their journey today. How did your priorities change when you started your recovery, and how are they changing today?

- - -

We may be breaking the matzah, but it still serves a purpose now and it will serve a purpose later. We may have felt broken when we reached our “rock bottom” or during the most difficult times of our addiction. But we are here now, full of purpose, just like the afikomen! How did your earlier experiences serve you later in life?

Traditionally, the youngest person at the seder (presumably the one with the least seder experience) recites The Four Questions. The questions ask why we perform certain rituals tonight, like eating matzah instead of bread. “Why is this night different from all other nights?” they ask.

For many of us, a night in recovery is much different than the alternative. Chances are you have had to explain your recovery-oriented choices to others, especially if they don’t know you’re sober or if they used to use with you. What questions have others asked you when you chose a night in recovery instead of a night of using, and how have you answered? If you are not in recovery, what questions do you have for those who are?

This night is different from all other nights because on this night we become conscious, mindful, aware that we have choices. We take advantage of the fact that we as human beings have been given the gift of free will. We make sure to remind ourselves
that there is a way out and that if we join hands, we can indeed cross the Red Sea.
We will begin to conceive of a life that is larger than we ever could have imagined.

-- Cantor Rebekah Mirsky, founding Cantor of Beit T’shuvah,
a Jewish addiction treatment center in Los Angeles

The haggadah acknowledges that children ask the most earnest and frank questions. There are many takes on the Four Children in modern versions of the haggadah, but the original four were the wise one, the wicked one, the simple one, and the one who doesn’t know to ask. We address these four children anytime we are faced with an urge to use:

The wise one asks, “How will acting on this urge affect you and others?”
They have learned from the past, and they understand the negative impact using will have on you and the world around you. Who are the wise children in your life?

The wicked one asks, “Won’t you feel great once you use?”
They get you to focus only on the immediate relief of using, excited to control your actions. How do you resist giving in to the wicked child?

The simple one asks, “Why are you having an urge to use?”
They ask the most fundamental question, which is perhaps the most difficult one, because it forces you to face the feelings you could numb with a substance. How do you answer?

The one who doesn’t know to ask stays silent, oblivious to the pain you are experiencing.
Who are the silent children in your life? How would they react if you shared your recovery experience with them? Would they be sources of support if they knew how you are feeling?

You probably know the story, but can you tell it in 30 seconds or less, all the way from Moses floating down the Nile to the Israelites crossing the Red Sea? The leader will ask for volunteers to boil it down so that we can get to the best parts of the maggid.

In case no one volunteers (or no one is successful), here is one compact version: Moses, who was an Israelite but grew up as the Pharaoh’s daughter’s son thanks to the ingenuity of his mother and his sister, fled Egypt after he killed an Egyptian who was beating a Jewish slave. He lived in the desert, married Zipporah, had a vision of a burning bush that he took as a sign from God that the Jewish people might be in trouble, and returned to Egypt to ask Pharaoh to let his people go. Pharaoh refused, so ten plagues rained down upon the Egyptians, until the final one – the death of the firstborn – got Pharaoh to acquiesce. The Israelites left Egypt and eventually got to the Red Sea. Seeing the Egyptian armies chasing after them because Pharaoh had changed his mind, God instructed Moses to raise his staff and the sea parted. Miriam led the Israelites in song and dance as they crossed the sea.

In a traditional haggadah, Moses is only mentioned once as we retell the Exodus story. Similarly, in recovery, our stories rarely revolve around one individual who personally shepherds us to a land of milk and honey. Instead, we achieve extraordinary change as a community – as a people – by believing in each other.

As we rejoice at our deliverance from slavery, we acknowledge that our freedom came at the cost of the Egyptians’ misery. We dip a finger or a spoon into our glass to take out a drop of juice as we say the name of each plague. We do this to reduce our pleasure as we remember the suffering of the Egyptians.

BLOOD / dam        FROGS / tzfardeiya        LICE / kinim             BEASTS / arov          CATTLE DISEASE / dever   BOILS / sh’chin              HAIL / barad               LOCUSTS / arbeh              DARKNESS / choshech 
DEATH OF THE FIRSTBORN / makat b’chorot

Pharaoh, blinded by his stubbornness, ignored the suffering of his own people as the plagues continued. Only when his own son died – the most personal, devastating blow yet – did he finally end the pain of all Egyptians. One of the most difficult parts of recovery is realizing who suffered while you were blinded by a substance. Take this moment to think of those in your life who may have gone through plagues before you were ready to recover. Alternatively, if you are suffering at the expense of someone else’s use, how are you, like the Egyptians, coping with the plagues while having to carry on with your day-to-day activities?

One of most beloved songs in any Passover seder is Dayeinu. Dayeinu commemorates the long list of miraculous things God did over the entire course of the Exodus story, any one of which would have been amazing just by itself. For example, “Had God only taken us out of Egypt but not punished the Egyptians – it would have been enough.”

Dayeinu is a reminder to remember all the miracles that have happened in our lives. If we simply stand and wait for the next one to appear, we are missing the point of life. Instead, we can enumerate the reasons to be grateful right now – the reasons to say dayeinu.

We sing together:

Ilu ho-tsi, Ho-tsi-a-nu, Ho-tsi-a-nu mi-Mitz-ra-yim, Ho-tsi-a-nu mi-Mitz-ra-yim, Da-ye-nu!

If God had brought us all out of Egypt, it would have been enough!
 

Dai, da-ye-nu, dai, da-ye-nu, dai, da-ye-nu… da-ye-nu, da-ye-nu, da-ye-nu!

Ilu na-tan, na-tan la-nu, Na-tan la-nu et-ha-Sha-bat, Na-tan la-nu et-ha-Sha-bat, Da-ye-nu!

If God had given us Shabbat, it would have been enough!

Dai, da-ye-nu, dai, da-ye-nu, dai, da-ye-nu… da-ye-nu, da-ye-nu, da-ye-nu!

Ilu na-tan, na-tan la-nu, Na-tan la-nu et-ha-To-rah, Na-tan la-nu et-ha-To-rah, Da-ye-nu!

If God had given us the Torah, it would have been enough!

Dai, da-ye-nu, dai, da-ye-nu, dai, da-ye-nu… da-ye-nu, da-ye-nu, da-ye-nu!

What miracles – however small – make you feel grateful tonight?

B’chol dor vador chayav adam lirot et-atzmo, k’ilu hu yatzav mimitzrayim.

In every generation, everyone is obligated to see themselves as though they personally left Egypt.

The Torah says, “God brought us out from there in order to lead us to and give us the land promised to our ancestors.” This is interpreted to mean that God not only redeemed our ancestors; God redeemed us, too. According to tradition, we express gratitude for this redemption and for reaching this night on which we celebrate our liberation. May we continue to reach future holidays in peace and happiness.

As we drink the second cup, may we also reflect on those who did not reach this night and who are not here to experience this journey to freedom with us.

            We recite the following blessing together:

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, bo-rei pe-ri ha-gafen.

We acknowledge the Unity of All, and we express gratitude for the fruit of the vine.

In Jewish tradition, a good meal together with friends and family is itself a sacred act, so we prepare for it just as we prepared for our seder.

After we have cleaned our hands, we recite a blessing:

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, asher kid’shanu

b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu al n’tilat yadayim.

We acknowledge the Unity of All, and we express gratitude for

the opportunity to connect as we wash our hands.

Blessing over Matzah

The hamotzi blessing (the Jewish prayer over bread) marks the formal start of the meal. Because we are using matzah instead of bread, we add a blessing to celebrate the mitzvah (literally “commandment,” but also used to mean a good deed done out of religious duty) of eating matzah.

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, hamotzi lechem min ha-aretz.

We acknowledge the Unity of All, and we express gratitude for bread from the earth.

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, asher kid’shanu

b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu al achilat matzah.

We acknowledge the Unity of All, and we express gratitude for

the opportunity to connect by eating matzah.

Everyone receives a chunk of matzah from the top and middle pieces of matzah.

The matzah reminds us that when the chance arises for liberation, we must seize it even if we do not feel ready – indeed, if we wait until we feel fully ready, we may never act at all. How did you seize the opportunity to recover? Were you fully ready when you started your recovery?

The bitter herbs are a reminder of the bitterness the Israelites experienced as slaves in Egypt.

Before we eat the herbs, we say together:

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, asher kid’shanu
b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu al achilat maror.

We acknowledge the Unity of All, and we express gratitude for
the opportunity to connect by eating bitter herbs.

Sometimes we need reminders of the bitterness of our past, especially when we feel our current sobriety is at risk. On the other hand, we must acknowledge these memories without becoming so preoccupied with them that we cannot be present or move on. How do you remind yourself of painful times without reliving the trauma or dwelling too much on the past?

When the Temple stood in Jerusalem, one of the most important rituals was eating the lamb offered as the pesach, or Passover sacrifice. The great sage Hillel would put the meat in a sandwich made of matzah and bitter herbs. While we do not make animal sacrifices any more – and, in fact, some Jews have a custom of purposely avoiding lamb during the seder so that it is not mistaken as a sacrifice – we honor this custom by eating a sandwich of the remaining matzah and bitter herbs. Matzah, the bread of freedom, should be tasted together with the bitter maror so that one should not know the bitterness of slavery without the joy of freedom.

Some people will also include charoset in the sandwich to remind us that God’s kindness helped relieve the bitterness of slavery. Whose kindness relieves the bitterness of recovery for you?

The playfulness of finding the afikomen reminds us that we balance our solemn memories of slavery with a celebration of our current freedoms. As we eat the afikomen, our last taste of matzah for the evening, we are grateful for moments of silliness and happiness in our lives.

Recovery isn’t all about brooding over the past and surviving urges to use. It’s about being present for the fun, exhilarating, happy moments in life. Think of a joyous time in your recovery when you were glad that you were fully present.

We take this moment to express our gratitude for the effort that went into the food we just ate. From those who picked the dates that ended up in our charoset to those who traveled to be here at this table, we are grateful for all who have made tonight’s dinner possible.

We say together:

Baruch ata Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha-olam, bo-rei pe-ri ha-gafen.

We acknowledge the Unity of All, and we express gratitude for the fruit of the vine.

We say together:

Baruch ata Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha-olam, bo-rei pe-ri ha-gafen.

We acknowledge the Unity of All, and we express gratitude for the fruit of the vine.

In a traditional seder, we would sing psalms like Who Knows One? or Chad Gadya at this point. Depending on the time and everyone’s mood, we can go to the appendix and find the lyrics to these songs.

When we use, we inflict harm on ourselves. We may feel that we are not worthy of health and happiness, or that we aren’t strong enough to face the difficulties in our life. In recovery, it’s important to remember your immense value and incomparable strength. Praise yourself for something you did today!

We now pour a cup of juice for Elijah.  According to tradition, the prophet Elijah dedicated himself to defending God against non-believers, and as reward for his devotion and hard work, he was whisked away to heaven at the end of his life. We open the door to invite Elijah to our seder, in the hope that the final redemption of all people is at hand.

We sing Elijah's song as we watch expectantly and hopefully for the wine in the cup to diminish, a sure sign that Elijah has visited and the dawn of a new redemption is near:

Eliyahu hanavi Eliyahu hatishbi Eliyahu, Eliyahu,

Eliyahu hagiladi Bimheirah b’yameinu,

Yavo eileinu Im mashiach ben-David

Im mashiach ben-David

Elijah the prophet, the returning,

the man of Gilad: return to us speedily,

in our days with the messiah, son of David.

We now fill Miriam’s cup with water. Miriam was the sister of Moses and a prophetess in her own right. Disregarding her own safety, Miriam dared to approach the Pharaoh's daughter, Princess of Egypt, and she offered to find a Jewish woman to nurse the Princess’s child for her. In the first moments of freedom from the bondage and suffering in Egypt, Miriam inspired the Israelites to dance. When they were wandering through the desert, legend has it that a well of much-needed water followed Miriam. Miriam represents the courageous role women take on in leading movements and sustaining life.

If the Cup of Elijah symbolizes hope for future redemption, Miriam's Cup symbolizes redemption realized through the tireless efforts of women. Let us honor Miriam for her heroism, and through her, all the brave, capable, devoted, faithful and loyal women who have been, and continue to be, the ongoing source of strength for their communities.

Together we say:

This is the Cup of Miriam, to symbolize the water which gave new life to Israel as we struggled in the wilderness. Blessed are you, those who sustain us with endless possibilities, and enable us to reach a new place.

Who are the Miriams in your life and how do they influence your recovery?

We have reached the conclusion of our seder. Our bellies are full, we have had way too much juice, we have told stories and sung songs, and now it is time for the evening to come to a close. At the end of the seder, we honor the tradition of declaring, “Next year in Jerusalem!”

This phrase has many interpretations. For some people, the recitation of this phrase expresses the anticipation of rebuilding the Temple in Jerusalem and the return of the Messiah. For others, it is an affirmation of hope and of connectedness with Klal Yisrael, the whole of the Jewish community. Many simply yearn for peace in troubled parts of the world.

Though it comes at the end of the seder, this moment also marks a beginning. We are beginning the next season with a renewed awareness of the freedoms we enjoy and the obstacles we must still confront. We are looking forward to the time that we gather together again. Having retold stories of the Jewish people, recalled our own journeys to liberation, and reflected on the struggles we still face for freedom, we are ready to embark on a year that we hope will bring positive change in our community and in the world at large.

May we realize that we cannot have freedom for ourselves unless we are willing to give it to others. Through our daily deeds may each of us, in our own way, help to liberate all who live in fear and darkness. May the light of freedom penetrate all corners of the world and lift the darkness of tyranny until tyranny is no more, so that all people may be free. We go forth with new visions of what is possible – for us, for our communities, and for all those with whom we share the earth.

L’shana haba-ah biy’rushalayim!

NEXT YEAR IN JERUSALEM!

The following sources were used to create this haggadah:

The Anonymous Haggadah: A Synthesis of the Passover Ritual and Liturgy with the Twelve Steps of Recovery from JACS (Jewish Alcoholics, Chemically Dependent Persons and Significant Others). https://jewdas.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/jacs-anonymoushaggadah.pdf

B’nai Torah Congregation Recovery Seder Guide by Rabbi David Englander, available upon request.

An Egalitarian Hagada by Aviva Cantor. https://www.lilith.org/articles/an-egalitarian-hagada/

#friendseder™ Haggadah by The Well, an inclusive Jewish outreach initiative for young adults and young families. https://www.friendseder.com

Herring Family Haggadah by Amanda Herring, available upon request or on haggadot.com.

JewBelong Haggadah by JewBelong. http://www.jewbelong.com

The Model Seder prepared by Rabbi Harry Nelson and Harry Malin.
https://www.amazon.com/Model-Seder-Harry-Malin-Nelson/dp/B00XDBBYGC

Moishe House Passover Seder Retreat, March 2019. https://www.moishehouse.org/

Recovery Seder Workshop prepared by Rabbi Gary Katz for JACS. https://jewishboard.org/resources/recovery-seder-workshop/

The Wandering is Over Haggadah: A Seder for Everyone by Jewish Boston. https://www.jewishboston.com

For more information, contact Rebecca Bass at [email protected].

Who Knows One? 
At some seders, people go around the table reading the question and all 13 answers in one breath. Thirteen is hard!

Who knows one?

I know one.

One is our God in Heaven and Earth

Who knows two?

I know two.

Two are the tablets of the covenant

One is our God in Heaven and Earth

Who knows two?

I know two.

Three are the patriarchs

Two are the tablets of the covenant

One is our God in Heaven and Earth

Who knows four?

I know four.

Four are the matriarchs

Three are the patriarchs

Two are the tablets of the covenant

One is our God in Heaven and Earth

Who knows five?

I know five.

Five are the books of the Torah

Four are the matriarchs

Three are the patriarchs

Two are the tablets of the covenant

One is our God in Heaven and Earth

Who knows six?

I know six.

Six are the orders of the Mishnah

Five are the books of the Torah

Four are the matriarchs

Three are the patriarchs

Two are the tablets of the covenant

One is our God in Heaven and Earth

Who knows seven?

I know seven.

Seven are the days of the week

Six are the orders of the Mishnah

Five are the books of the Torah

Four are the matriarchs

Three are the patriarchs

Two are the tablets of the covenant

One is our God in Heaven and Earth

Who knows eight?

I know eight.

Eight are the days for circumcision

Seven are the days of the week

Six are the orders of the Mishnah

Five are the books of the Torah

Four are the matriarchs

Three are the patriarchs

Two are the tablets of the covenant

One is our God in Heaven and Earth

Who knows nine?

I know nine.

Eight are the days for circumcision

Seven are the days of the week

Six are the orders of the Mishnah

Five are the books of the Torah

Four are the matriarchs

Three are the patriarchs

Two are the tablets of the covenant

One is our God in Heaven and Earth

Who knows ten?

I know ten.

Ten are the Words from Sinai

Nine are the months of childbirth

Eight are the days for circumcision

Seven are the days of the week

Six are the orders of the Mishnah

Five are the books of the Torah

Four are the matriarchs

Three are the patriarchs

Two are the tablets of the covenant

One is our God in Heaven and Earth

Who knows eleven?

I know eleven.

Eleven are the stars

Ten are the Words from Sinai

Nine are the months of childbirth

Eight are the days for circumcision

Seven are the days of the week

Six are the orders of the Mishnah

Five are the books of the Torah

Four are the matriarchs

Three are the patriarchs

Two are the tablets of the covenant

One is our God in Heaven and Earth

Who knows twelve?

I know twelve.

Twelve are the tribes

Eleven are the stars

Ten are the Words from Sinai

Nine are the months of childbirth

Eight are the days for circumcision

Seven are the days of the week

Six are the orders of the Mishnah

Five are the books of the Torah

Four are the matriarchs

Three are the patriarchs

Two are the tablets of the covenant

One is our God in Heaven and Earth

Who knows thirteen?

I know thirteen

Thirteen are the attributes of God

Twelve are the tribes

Eleven are the stars

Ten are the Words from Sinai

Nine are the months of childbirth

Eight are the days for circumcision

Seven are the days of the week

Six are the orders of the Mishnah

Five are the books of the Torah

Four are the matriarchs

Three are the patriarchs

Two are the tablets of the covenant

One is our God in Heaven and Earth

Chad Gadya

חַד גַּדְיָא, חַד גַּדְיָא

דְזַבִּין אַבָּא בִּתְרֵי זוּזֵי

חַד גַּדְיָא, חַד גַּדְיָא

Chad gadya, chad gadya

Dizabin abah bitrei zuzei

Chad gadya, chad gadya.

One little goat, one little goat:

Which my father brought for two zuzim.

One little goat, one little goat:

The cat came and ate the goat,

Which my father bought for two zuzim.

One little goat, one little goat:

The dog came and bit the cat

That ate the goat,

Which my father bought for two zuzim.

One little goat, one little goat:

The stick came and beat the dog

That bit the cat that ate the goat,

Which my father bought for two zuzim.

One little goat, one little goat:

The fire came and burned the stick

That beat the dog that bit the cat

That ate the goat,

Which my father bought for two zuzim.

One little goat, one little goat:

The water came and extinguished the

Fire that burned the stick

That beat the dog that bit the cat

That ate the goat,

Which my father bought for two zuzim.

One little goat, one little goat:

The ox came and drank the water

That extinguished the fire

That burned the stick that beat the dog That bit the cat that ate the goat,

Which my father bought for two zuzim.

One little goat, one little goat:

The butcher came and killed the ox,

That drank the water

That extinguished the fire

That burned the stick that beat the dog That bit the cat that ate the goat,

Which my father bought for two zuzim.

One little goat, one little goat:

The angle of death came and slew

The butcher who killed the ox,

That drank the water

That extinguished the fire

That burned the stick that beat the dog That bit the cat that ate the goat,

Which my father bought for two zuzim.

One little goat, one little goat:

The Holy One, Blessed Be He came and

Smote the angle of death who slew

The butcher who killed the ox,

That drank the water

That extinguished the fire

That burned the stick that beat the dog That bit the cat that ate the goat,

Which my father bought for two zuzim.

And the women dancing with their timbrels

Followed Miriam as she sang her song.

Sing a song to the One whom we’ve exalted,

Miriam and the women danced and danced the whole night long.

And Miriam was a weaver of unique variety,

The tapestry she wove was one which sang our history,

With every strand and every thread she crafted her delight,

A woman touched with spirit she dances toward the light.

Chorus

When Miriam stood upon the shores and gazed across the sea,

The wonder of this miracle she soon came to believe,

Whoever thought the sea would part with an outstretched hand,

And we would pass to freedom and march to the promised land.

Chorus

And Miriam the prophet took her timbrel in her hand,

And all the women followed her just as she had planned,

And Miriam raised her voice in song

She sang with praise and might,

We’ve just lived through a miracle,

we’re going to dance tonight.