We light candles in mismatched candlesticks to remind us of how our ancestors made do with what they had in the dark times never gave up their determination to hold onto their Judaism. We take inspiration from their resilience and from those who found the strength to stand when standing seemed impossible.

As we prepare ourselves for our journey of remembrance, we smell fragrant rosemary and drink a cup of wine in memory of the sweet, flavorful life we had before the destruction.  

Hatred spread across Germany like poison in water. We drink sweet tea in place of the wine they could not find and eat potato skins dipped in salt water for remembrance of the starvation we endured and the tears we shed.

We remember the children who were sent into hiding. We conceal our hope, in the form of a child’s drawing, in a secret place to keep it safe. We eat oranges, whose bitter rind hides sweet fruit, to remember that sweet hope can hide beneath bitterness. 

Words fail as we begin to speak of the darkest times. The Germans, with willing partners, murdered us in staggering numbers. Mass graves filled the forests of Europe. We grieve as we remember the vibrant Jewish communities that were destroyed. We spill a drop of wine for each community as we remember them.

Despite our enemies’ eagerness to strip us of our Judaism and of our humanity, we continued to educate our children, to celebrate our holidays, to love and help each other. We eat olives, dates, or cherries with pits to represent their unbreakable inner core.

A few good people recognized the evil for what it was. They risked their lives to help us. They hid friends, neighbors, and strangers from the eyes of those who would harm us. In almost every survivor’s story, there is a story of someone who helped. 

Liberation eventually came. As we remember the liberation, we recognize that we must remember the affliction of our people so that no people shall ever suffer such a fate again. So we say, Never Again.

Never again shall we allow hatred to go unanswered. For we are commanded to pursue justice.

While the world counted their dead, we counted our living. Those who lived gave us strength to love again. We say Shehechyanu for our survival and drink a cup of wine to celebrate our rebirth.

They left no footprints, no fingerprints. All we have is memory. As long as we remember them, they are with us. We speak their names so they will not be forgotten. We say Kaddish for our lost and all of those who were murdered alongside us.

From the abundance of our brightest lives to the sharing of scraps in the darkest times, communities rise with the sharing of bread. We break bread together to celebrate the Jewish community that continues to thrive and the community we create together through this ritual.

We awaken to a world where human beings have done unfathomable evil to each other, to us. What do we do now? We come to understand that we must turn our anger into a passionate drive to repair the world. We must be vocal torchbearers of love.

We recognize that despite our best efforts, there is still evil in the world. We therefore end with a call to work for peace and justice in the world.

Tzedek, tzedek nirdof.
Justice, justice we shall pursue.