The Four Children are coming. It used to bother me that it was four sons. What about the daughters?
Now it bothers me that I have no children. I’d instruct my children if I had them.
Wicked, wise, simple, unable to ask or otherwise.
I’d tell them about the Exodus.
I’d tell them how I called out to God to stop the punishment. How I saw signs and wonders.
I thought the plagues were for the Egyptians, but it seemed I experienced a few too.
It’s not the same, I know. I am not a slave.
I am the four children. All of them in me.
I am angry and distanced one moment,
then gracious and curious,
then wondering what is happening,
then just silent.
I need to get back to preparing for the Seder
and make instructions for myself.