Every year for Passover, my family would drive 90 minutes to attend a seder at my aunt and uncle’s kibbutz. They lived on Kibbutz Beth Alpha, near Jordan, and we lived in Haifa.
Hundreds of people attended, filling many long tables. The kibbutz created their own Hagaddah, focusing on the spring and harvest. It was not at all a religious service. The kids always performed a show, usually based on the story of the goat—Had Gadya.
It was always a lot of fun—sitting with everyone—especially with my cousins, whom I’m still close with to this day.
By the time we left to go home, it was very late. My parents brought pillows and blankets for my older brother and I, and since seatbelts weren’t required then, my parents reclined the back seats to a flat position and we slept on the way home.
It wasn’t until I was in high school that we went to my father’s family for the holiday and I experienced a real seder.
– Adi Abramov