Once there was a happy child, and his friends they numbered four. One was hungry, one was hyper. One was busy and did chores
And the fourth was shy and colored salmon, he was young and he was small. While his friends asked all the questions, he rarely spoke at all.
The hungry one asked the child, is this the day with honey? When we dip our apples, or our paws if you are me.
And the child shook his head, oh silly bear! The day of which your thinking, isn't in the spring air.
Then the hyper one asked the child, as he bounced up and down. Is this the day with the Torah? When we dance round and round?
As the child laughed out loud, he did say a response. That day is Simcha Torah, that's the Torah renaissance.
Now the child told his friends, this is the day when jews were freed. When we eat our fill of matzah, because of no time to knead.
The busy one proudly spoke up, this is the day with the chores. When we rid the house of chametz, how could it ever be a bore?
The shy one whispered softly, did you here that tap on the door? Could it be Elijah? or simply Eeyore?
Now the friends they did celebrate, of their freedom in the wood. The holiday of Passover, the holiday so good.
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