There Were No Bitter Herbs In This Private Seder.

Shana sat in the corner and tugged at the chain that held her to the pipe. No change from the past 198 days. It held her tight, and the skin was raw around her ankle. 

Her captors hadn’t noticed her markings on the wall in each place they’d moved her. Some places were in civilians homes, some in the tunnels. She’d even spent a week in that damned hospital.

Tonight as the sun went down she knew it was Pesach. Her heart cried out to the Lord, her G*d. She was truly his child. Adoni was there, with her in the darkness.

It was the only way she’d made it through the casual torture, the multiple gang rapes and the beatings. She knew her face would never again be lovely to see, but her soul  was more glorious each day. Yaweh was loving in that regard. 

But with the darkness came the hunger, and the expectation of another vicious beating at the hands of the Hamas psychopaths who held her. They treated her worse than she had her dog. A beloved dog that they’d gutted in front of her while they killed her mother and father with a wire around their necks. 

She closed her eyes and began to pray. A prayer of acceptance and quiet. And out of the darkness there appeared a flickering light. She knew it was Adoni. 

She heard his voice, “Thousands of years ago, your family left Egypt and wandered the desert. I am here to protect you in this next journey as I promised.”

She wept as the chain at her ankle fell away. She was lifted in the air and carried toward heaven, her mind traveling in front of her to the stars.

“Rav Samal Rishon, I’ve got her. We need a stretcher, she’s unconcious.”

“Got it, Rav Turai. You guys help him. Medic up!”

They carried her from the tunnel, past the dead terrorist scum who had kept her in captivity. Adoni had sent his angels on this Passover to free another slave from captivity. 

Tradition moved forward. No lintels needed to be marked: the angels of death could find the Hebrews in the mix and they were safe from danger.

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Remember the hostages in Gaza. God Bless Israel.

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There Were No Bitter Herbs In This Private Seder. — 1 Comment

  1. Nice Passover story, brother. May they all come home. And may every terrorist pay dearly for their crimes against humanity. #endhamasterror #blesstheidf