The Businessman's Odd Ritual
For years, Jack’s business was a miracle of mediocrity. It barely scraped by, and his family existed on the thinnest of margins. They lived in a cramped, run-down apartment, and their clothes—well, they were more patchwork than fashion statement.
But one day, quite unexpectedly, Jack's luck took a turn. His business picked up, and soon he was comfortably wealthy. He moved his family into a spacious house in a posh neighborhood. Gone were the tattered clothes; now Jack sported custom-made suits and polished dress shoes.
But Jack had an odd ritual. Once a year, without fail, he would put aside his sharp suit, slip into the old, threadbare clothes he’d kept in the back of his closet, and gather his family around the dinner table. “This,” he would say with a solemn nod, “is to remind us of the hard times we went through and to make sure we never forget how far we’ve come.”
It was a simple tradition, but a powerful one. A reminder of humility and gratitude.
But, as the saying goes, fortune is fickle. One day, Jack’s luck took another sharp nosedive. This time, it wasn’t a turn for the better. His business collapsed, his assets were seized, and he found himself back where he started—scraping by, struggling again, but now with even fewer options than before.
When Jack returned home, he gathered his family, his face serious. “You see these old rags?” he said, holding up the same clothes that had once symbolized a memory of humility and hard times. “This time, I’m not wearing them to remind myself of where I came from. I’m wearing them because, well, I really am poor again!”
Our Bread of Affliction
But if you look closely, you’ll find a subtle difference in some Haggadot. They say, "Ke-ha lachma anya" – "This is like the bread of affliction."
Why the difference?
The answer lies in the story of our people. There are times when we find ourselves at ease, in comfort, and even in prosperity. In those moments, we say, "Ke-ha lachma anya" – this is like the bread of affliction. Just like the wealthy businessman who wears his old rags to remember harder times, the matzah is a reminder of the hardships our ancestors faced in a time of slavery, oppression, and exile.
But then, there are times when the world turns against us. When suffering and oppression become our daily bread, the matzah no longer feels like a distant memory. In those times, we say, "Ha lachma anya." This is not just a symbol. It is our bread of affliction – our present reality, raw and real.
