The High Chair
By: Rabbi Analia Bortz, MD Atlanta, GA
Once again around the table Passover dor l’dor
Why is this night different? It’s not.
The bread of affliction, the bitter herbs…
My body is afflicted, my soul is bitter.
Would I have a next generation to tell the story?
I feel enslaved with chains of hormones and procedures. When would I break free?
Can I say Dayenu when it’s still not enough?
Is my womb plagued with emptiness?
And there, next to Eliyahu’s chair,
Waiting for the Messiah
There is a high chair,
That next year wherever I am,
The laughter of my baby will be present at my Passover table.