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The life-changing magic of washing your hands (on Passover)
(JTA) — At the height of the pandemic, I remember maddeningly washing, scrubbing and antibacterial-spritzing my hands in a bathroom along the New Jersey Turnpike. I then Olympic speed-walked to my car and rubbed my hands down again with a disinfecting wipe.
In those days of social distancing, the basic Jewish ritual of handwashing before meals — tossing water three times over each hand from a communal pitcher — felt to me like an extremely low standard of cleanliness.
You may know the ritual, even if you don’t do it regularly: It’s the second step at the Passover seder, right after the blessing of the wine and just before you dip the parsley in salt water, when guests line up at the sink or someone passes a bowl of water and a towel around the table.
The rest of the year, the Jewish hand-washing ritual is usually associated with substantial meals (at minimum, a meal that includes bread). During the height of the pandemic, I was rarely sitting down for meals — at least not breakfast or lunch — because most of my daylight hours were in Zoom-land and most of what I was consuming was microwaved leftovers. This left me feeling disconnected on multiple levels. Me and millions of other people.
I needed to find ways to reconnect. I started taking more meetings on the phone and I decided that I would try to slow down and eat lunch with a little more mindfulness — even if I was just making myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. And that is when I reluctantly rediscovered ritual handwashing.
At first, I stood at our kitchen sink and tried to reconnect to the simplicity of the act — just slowing down and breathing as I poured water over my hands from a vessel. I knew that the ancient origins of ritual washing take us back to the practice of one kohen (priest) washing the feet and hands of another kohen before engaging in the work of the sacrifices. I started to think of this act as some form of sacred self-care where my left hand was caring for my right and vice versa. I started to make a habit of washing my hands with a vessel and I started to read more about the ritual.
One element of the washing is called “shifshuf yadayim,” which literally means “rubbing the hands,” and is initially described in the Tosefta (Yadaim 1:2), a 2nd-century CE compilation of Torah law. In an 18th-century text, Pri Megadim, there is a teaching that the rubbing is done so that the water touches every part of skin on the back and front of the hands and in the nooks between the fingers. This led me to become more mindful of the ways that rubbing brings your consciousness to the contours of your hands and to the act of caring for your hands. Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi (1745-1812) taught that when the rubbing is done with intention, it helps you to obtain a “tahara yeteira” — an extra level of purity.
I slowed down even more. I started using the minimal amount of water, turning my hand gently as I poured the water, and focusing on the sensation of the water covering the entire surface of the hands. In doing so I felt more connected to water’s miraculous power to cleanse and to refresh. And as I did this again and again, it became more than just a conscious moment of self-care and connection to water — it was as if I were awakening the deadened nerves in my hands and healing from the psychic wounds of those many months of lockdown and general fear of others. Through this gentle cleaning and attention to my hands I was experiencing a rebirth and a return — two themes that take us to the present moment.
In the Brenner home, we are frantically zipping about preparing to host the extended clan for Passover, a massive Tetris game of rearranging furniture, shlepping folding tables from the basement and cramming just enough chairs for three generations to sit together in a charming old house in New Jersey that sadly lacks “flow.”
Having guests find their way out of this maze and parade through the kitchen to wash is not feasible. Still, I want to share my newfound love for handwashing, so I will be passing out small cups with 3.2 ounces of water (the minimum amount required) so that everyone can fully engage with that often overlooked second ritual of the seder, known as urchatz. I even went so far as to work with an artist, Helene Brenenson, to design a guide to handwashing that includes a series of wellbeing-centered teachings to accompany the four essential steps of the ritual: lifting the vessel, pouring the water, rubbing the hands together and lifting the hands.
As I worked on this guide, I had a minor epiphany: Giving this water ritual, urchatz, a prominent spot at the seder was a brilliant rabbinic move. The Passover story begins with a drought (lack of water) that brought the Israelites to Egypt, ends with the miraculous crossing of a sea (walls of water), and eventually leads us to a land described in Deuteronomy as having “streams of water, of springs and underground water bursting forth from valley and mountain.” Urchatz connects us to the water imagery of the Passover seder and both physically and spiritually prepares our hands to take hold of the parsley (or other vegetable) and taste the “Spring” that symbolizes this time of rebirth.
Now I look back on those months of frantic pandemic handwashing and feel gratitude. My disconnection not only helped me seek out new ways to approach a basic pre-eating ritual, but led me to appreciate something that was always right there in the seder but I had never truly bothered to appreciate. This year the number two ritual in the seder’s order is number one in my heart.
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NELLA MARGRITHE ESKIN NOVEMBER 14, 1946 – AUGUST 27, 2025
It is with great sorrow that the Eskin family reports the passing of Nella Margrithe Eskin, beloved wife and devoted partner of Michael Eskin, on August 27, 2025.
Nella, the only child of the late Kasiel and Rosa Kessler, Holocaust survivors, was born in a displaced persons camp in Fohrenwald, Germany, in 1946. The family first moved to Baltimore as refugees in 1949 before settling in Chicago, where Nella graduated from Roosevelt University with Bachelor of Science degree.
In 1969, she met Michael, and three months later they were married in Chicago in March 1970. They shared a wonderful marriage of over 55 years, during which they raised a family of four boys and created a home that was always full of song, food, guests and Yiddishkeit. Sadly, their eldest son, Katriel, passed away in 2015. Nella is survived by her other three sons, Josh, Ezra and Daniel, and their families as well as Katriel’s wife and family. She was a devoted wife, mother, and grandmother to her husband, sons, and ten grandchildren, and a loving daughter to her mother, Rosa, who passed away in 2020.
A lifelong scholar, she earned an MBA from the University of Manitoba in 1995. Nella was a very pious and learned woman who was also a wonderful artist, music lover, gardener and cook. She passed her love of music, art, storytelling and learning to her children, teaching each of them piano and instilling in them an enduring appreciation for the arts that continues to this day. She was an incredibly warm woman and made every gathering feel special, every guest feel valued, and every meal feel like a celebration of love and friendship.
She will be sorely missed by her husband, children, grandchildren, relatives in the UK, USA, Australia, and Israel, and many dear friends. Her kindness, curiosity, and love will live on in the many lives she touched. May her memory be
a blessing.
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VIDEO: Moishele Alfonso on the new book of I. L. Peretz stories for students
לכּבֿוד דער פּובליקאַציע פֿונעם ביכל „אויפֿן װעג: זיבן דערציילונגען פֿון י.־ל. פּרץ“ — אַ זאַמלונג ספּעציעל געמאַכט פֿאַר סטודענטן — קען מען איצט זען אַן אינטערוויו מיטן ייִדיש־לערער משהלע אַלפֿאָנסאָ, וואָס האָט פֿאַרקירצט און באַאַרבעט די דערציילונגען.
אין דעם אינטערוויו דערציילט אַלפֿאָנסאָ וועגן דעם פּראָצעס פֿון שאַפֿן דאָס ביכל, און לייענט געקליבענע אויסצוגן דערפֿון. דער אינטערוויו, געפֿירט פֿון אלי בענעדיקט, איז געשטיצט געוואָרן פֿון דער ייִדיש־ליגע, וואָס האָט אויך אַרויסגעגעבן דאָס לייענביכל.
דאָס נאָוואַטאָרישע ביכל גיט דעם לייענער אַ צוטריט צו קלאַסישע ייִדיש־דערציילונגען דורך אַ זײַט־בײַ־זײַטיקן גלאָסאַר, שמועס־פֿראַגעס און קלאַנג־רעקאָרדירונגען פֿון די מעשׂיות.
משהלע אַלפֿאָנסאָ איז אַ ייִדיש־לערער בײַם ייִדישן ביכער־צענטער זינט 2019. אין 2022 האָט ער, דורכן פֿאַרלאַג „אָלניאַנסקי־טעקסט“, טראַנסקריבירט און אַרויסגעגעבן יצחק באַשעוויסעס בוך „שׂונאים: די געשיכטע פֿון אַ ליבע“. דער ראָמאַן איז אַרויס אין המשכים אינעם פֿאָרווערטס אין 1966, און ס’איז דאָס ערשטע מאָל וואָס שׂונאים איז אַרויס אין בוכפֿאָרעם אויף ייִדיש.
דאָס ביכל קען מען באַשטעלן דאָ.
The post VIDEO: Moishele Alfonso on the new book of I. L. Peretz stories for students appeared first on The Forward.
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VIDEO: Peter, Paul and Mary’s “Light One Candle” — in Yiddish
If, like me, you enjoy listening to old recordings of the iconic folk group Peter, Paul and Mary, you may want to check this out: a new Yiddish version of their Hanukkah song “Light One Candle,” sung by another talented trio — Rabbi Avram, Elisha and Sarah Mlotek. (A transliteration of the lyrics appears beneath the video below.)
The three siblings are the grown children of Zalmen Mlotek, musician and director of the Yiddish National Theater Folksbiene, and his wife, Debbie Mlotek. Rabbi Avram is a writer, Elisha is a filmmaker and Sarah is studying music at a conservatory in Israel — and just became a mom.
Their singing is backed up by C. Joseph Lanzbom on guitar and Elisha on percussion.
The original song, which was written by Peter Yarrow, became an anthem for the Soviet Jewry movement in the 1980s, symbolizing their struggle for freedom. It was translated into Yiddish by the theater producer Moishe Rosenfeld and Avram Mlotek.
“‘Light One Candle’ was one of our Bubbe’s favorite songs every time we got together for a Hanukkah sing-along,” Avram said. Their Bubbe was the renowned scholar of Yiddish song, Chana Mlotek. For many years, she and her husband, the Yiddish cultural activist Yosl Mlotek, ran a column about Yiddish songs and poetry in the Forward.
Although Hanukkah is still a month away, Bubby Chana’s grandchildren had a meaningful reason for publishing it now: This week marks her yortzeit.
TRANSLITERATION
Eyn likht shaynt far di heldishe kinder
A dank vos dos likht geyt nit oys
Eyn likht shaynt far di payn un di laydn
Di sakone’z geven azoy groys
Eyn likht flakert far korbones un laydn
Az yoysher un frayhayt zol zayn
Eyn likhtl flakert far khokhme un visn
Far frayhayt un sholem zol zayn.
Lesht nit di likhtlekh oys!
Zey flakern shoyn doyres-lang
Lesht nit di likhtlekh oys!
Balaykhtn durkh undzer gezang!
Eyn likht flakert tsu gebn undz koyekh
Az eybik mir’n blaybn getray
Eyn likht flakert far mentshn vos laydn
Oykh mir zenen nisht geven fray
Eyn likhtl flakert far zise khaloymes
Tseteyln zol undz nisht der kas
Un eyn likhtl flakert tsu haltn tsuzamen
Mit sholem un mer nisht kayn has
Lesht nit di likhtlekh oys!
Zey flakern shoyn doyres-lang
Lesht nit di likhtlekh oys!
Balaykhtn durkh undzer gezang!
Vos iz di mayse vos iz azoy tayer
Vos lebt eybik in undzer flam?
Vos iz di shvue tsu fargangene doyres
Az es lebt undzer folk, undzer am?
Mir kumen, mir geyen, mir hofn, mir gloybn
Az yoysher vet vern der klal
Dos iz der viln, dos iz di shvue
A shenere velt iberal!
Lesht nit di likhtlekh oys!
Zey flakern shoyn doyres-lang
Lesht nit di likhtlekh oys!
Balaykhtn durkh undzer gezang!
The post VIDEO: Peter, Paul and Mary’s “Light One Candle” — in Yiddish appeared first on The Forward.