At every Seder, as we recite the ten plagues over Egypt we pour out a drop of wine to symbolize our sadness. We are heartbroken that any soul had to suffer, even those who hated us,
tormented us and enslaved us.
And still, we sing lighthearted songs with our children about “frogs here, frogs there.”
And as we enumerate the plagues we find ourselves muttering the final plague beneath our breath, not wanting to frighten our own children,
not knowing what...