Thursday, March 18, 2010


Of all the holidays I remember from my childhood, it's Seders at Uncle Lou’s and Aunt Dora’s Cincinnati home. The many members of the Weiland family fill a special place in my heart.

Their spacious home was blessed with the festive holiday, the incredible bounty of traditional Seder foods and the aroma that
dominates Jewish homes everywhere throughout the world during Passover week.

Nothing can compare with chicken soup simmering in the pot with matzoh balls and carrots swimming in a sea of greens, a variety of veggies complementing tender pot roast with deep brown gravy. And seltzer water to wash the good food down.

It’s impossible to recall how many joined in the Seder observance and the endless flow of Passover delights, cakes and assorted sweets---almost none catered or commercially prepared---created by Aunt Dora’s pastry chefs throughout the seven days of Passover.

Passover, a time to meet, to greet, to eat, to thank God for the bounty for which we are blessed, to read and repeat the stories in the Hagadah of our ancestors’ struggles to be free to live and worship God as did their forefathers in centuries past. It is similar in many ways to the American Thanksgiving that celebrates what America and a religious freedom in a land of equality sometimes take too much for granted.

Of course, Uncle and Aunt Dora and members of their immediate family have passed away and the Weilands and many of their heirs have migrated to cities near and far from their Cincinnati roots.

Uncle Lou’s home probably no longer is filled with the Passover perfume of chicken soup and matzoh balls, the highlights of Seder delights, the joy and the cheer. The oft repeated prayers shared by Jews everywhere, in homes, in congregations, in America and in nations far and near.

And the voice of Uncle Lou still echoes in the hearts and minds of Weilands everywhere---”Next year in the holy land of Israel.”

After all these years my memory is not what it appears to be But I recall, not all, but at most of the Seders there were 50 or more to share this sacred holiday---family, friends and associates of my uncle, a prominent attorney and participant in charitable events locally and throughout the Jewish and philanthropic communities..

At a special birthday party for Uncle Lou (I think he had just turned 92, give or take) as he rose to pose for photographs, he looked across the sea of smiling faces, who had traveled to Cincy from many places to share in this special affair, Lou Weiland said in appreciation, “I’d rather meet my friends here than at my funeral.”

Uncle Lou has since passed away. May he rest in peace.


Blogger 白色情人節 said...

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2:33 AM  

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