(Haaretz) Books with pages spread wide open, perched on balcony railings and shedding imaginary crumbs of not-kosher-for Passover food. Shelves covered in new paper, and masses of aluminum foil on kitchen counters and the stovetop. Signs on doors warning “Do not bring in hametz” – referring to leavened products – with several exclamation marks.

All of these were signs in my childhood that Passover was approaching. Above all I remember the near-hysteria that overtook the women and girls in the house, which mounted as the holiday grew nearer while they, dressed in rags, pursued to the death every stain and crumb.


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