Turn and face the stranger

For reasons that are not particularly interesting, my family did not hold a Seder tonight. Instead, my mother and I offered what she calls libations—a glass of wine poured out beside the front steps and matzah crumbled after it, while she speaks quietly into the night, Let all who are hungry come and eat. Let all who are homeless find a home. Let all who are enslaved be free. As far back as I can remember, this is our ha lachma anya. It is the most important part of the ritual. Past the four questions, the ten plagues, the ransoming of the afikomen: asking the stranger in. I suppose it is something like our observance of Hanukkah, small flames against the dark. It is not a Haggadah, a telling, but it is the story we hold on to. Next year in Jerusalem, but open the door now. Chag sameach, all.