The afikomen is half a piece of matzoh -- "the bread of affliction that our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt" -- which gets broken off early on in the proceedings and then consumed at the end of the meal. In between it gets sneaked off the table and hidden -- either by the children, who demand ransom for it, or by the adults, who give prizes to the children when they find it. We go for the latter option, but either way it's a great tradition.
Some years the kids spend at least as much time begging for hints as they do actually searching, but this time we bluntly refused to provide any guidance. When they finally spotted the little bundle -- after looking upstairs, downstairs, in every kitchen drawer -- we all rejoiced. As the Stitzhal haggadah says, "When we find the afikomen it reminds us that what is broken off is not really lost to us, so long as we remember to go and look for it."
Today we got to hide Easter eggs in a muddy field -- also a grand tradition. The cold & rain did not prevent the Behrman Johnsons from assembling plenty of warmth & brightness at this event, from the roaring fire
To the Malkin headgear.
And after several hours feasting, hiding, hunting, feasting again, and hunting some more, we had proved beyond doubt that whether the eggs are staring you right in the face:
Half submerged in the muck:
Or teetering just beyond reach:
Whether they're hidden by your parents or by mysterious lapine visitors:
There are always plenty of colorful hard-boiled & candy-filled treats to go around. And so long as you remember to bring your rubber boots & polar fleece, you can keep searching for as long as you like and still be pretty sure that there's at least one more out there somewhere.
P.S. On the way back to the car our kids, eyes sharpened by the hunt, spotted something mighty suspicious in the Subaru next to ours:
Hey -- what's the bunny doing in that box, Mom?
1 comment:
i like what stitz said.
Post a Comment