By Joshua Nash
Papa passes the Seder plate and pours more wine into our cups. Mama places a sprig of parsley in front of each of us.
“Other nights,” we chant, “we eat all vegetables.”
Papa bows his head and dips the herb into his cup. I chew the bitter leaves. The wine leaves a harsh taste as it slides down my throat.
Distant shouts of German soldiers shatter the silence. Mama clasps my hand.
“We eat the bitter herbs,” Papa quivers, “to remind us of the bitterness of slavery.” Tears well in his eyes. We sip our wine as the screams grow louder.
A very strong visual created with such few words. Emotional, raw, and terrifying. Good work.
Thank you, Pamela.
This paints a picture in a few words. Very good.
Thanks for reading, Derek.
What a powerful scene in so few words…great job!
This struck a chord.