Deyeinu - It Would Have Been Enough

Last night, my friend Beth invited me to her mom's first-ever vegan seder. Guess what? I wasn't even late. I arrived with a bouquet of flowers for the hostess and was immediately welcomed by Beth's family. Grandma Mrs. Katz (who is 98) asked me to sit by her on the sofa, which I did. She held my hand and told me to ignore her if she started repeating herself. I told her she didn't look a day over 48 and that I wouldn't care if she said the same thing ten times in a row. Aunt Joyce and I were chit chatting when we discovered we had something in common - we had both worked at Joslyn. We shared stories and asked if we knew any of the same people. It wasn't long before Aunt Joyce was asking me if I'd like to meet her son's best friend....a successful, SINGLE, Jewish lawyer. "Oh sure," I said. As soon as there was an opportunity, I asked Beth if he was bald.

The Haggadah from which we read was very progressive and humanist as Aunt Joyce pointed out. We read in unison and also took turns reading passages such as the Four Questions. Our hostess, Evie, created the most wonderfully alternative Seder plate. Instead of a bone representing the Paschal lamb, she placed a potato to serve as the "Paschal yam." And instead of a hard-boiled egg, she placed an orange representing the advancement of women in the Temple. She told of an urban legend when a conservative Rabbi said "a woman belongs at the Bemah like an orange belongs on a seder plate." The group laughed and chomped on our salt-dipped parsley.

As we finished reading selections from the Haggadah, we began our meal with matzah ball-less soup, as Evie's vegan matzah ball recipe didn't work out as she hoped. I believe she described it as "an epic vegan ball fail." We moved onto the salad and suddently Beth's brother became agitated and quite vocal about being unemployed and frustrated with life. I know that Beth and her mom were worried about me being uncomfortable, especially since I was sitting next to him. But I was actually more worried about them being worried about me. Eventually, Beth suggested we trade seats and by the main course everything was back to normal. Beth would shoot me looks of "I'm so sorry," and I tried my best to remind her that I empathized with their family. Non-traditional is the norm for me.

I met Burt, a Jesuit at Creighton University who has a jolly smile and quick wit. His best friend Laurie, Beth's college theology instructor, cajoled Beth about her lack of sports knowledge to which Beth replied with the story of Laurie's first Seder when she ate a huge bite of maror (horse raddish), thinking it was a matzah ball. And there was Charles, seated directly across from me, whose eyes twinkle under his snow-white hair. I met John who thinks skim milk on cereal is worse than water. Jesse, Beth's fiance, was suffering from a nasty spring cold, but he was a trooper and stuck it out through the meal. And I can't forget Skippy and Maynard. Skippy is a senior citizen with old man breath but it's easy to forgive once you meet him. And Maynard isn't very aware of his large stature, but his sweet temperment is hard to resist. Skippy and Maynard are dogs, obviously.

It would have been enough for Beth to invite me to her mom's seder. It would have been enough to have a few selections of vegetarian food. It would have been enough for her family to welcome me into their lives. It would have been enough for the weather to be mild. And it would have been enough to feel accepted at a Jewish table.

Tonight, a Seder at my sister's house. Tomorrow, Holy Thursday at the Catholic Church. Oy, what a sacred week.