There's something about preparing for Pesach that
seems to call up all our reserves, that brings
forth a deep physical-spiritual strength of which
we didn't think ourselves capable. Sudden surges of
adrenalin begin coursing through our veins at the
sight of kitchen cabinets and bedroom drawers. This
chemical reaction is not initiated until the Pesach
Cleaning Period.
The cluttered cabinets, dump-all drawers and
shtup-arein shelves surely did exist, but
the ambition to review, retrieve, rearrange and
disregard somehow doesn't materialize until our
calendar points out that Adar or Nissan are looming
shockingly near on the horizon.
The time is ripe. The hour is right. All the
neglected nooks and the crammed crannies that
didn't seem to beckon to us, that lay dormant all
year round, are suddenly communicating their need
to be considered, cleared and cleaned. Surely, the
paint wasn't peeling in that corner a month ago.
And since when did those curtains take on that
dusty gray tinge? Is it just that my eyes are
tired? Are those spots before my eyes or on the
couch? And the dull silver yearns for the touch of
a soft cloth.
Something in the very house itself wants open
windows, a rush of fragrant spring air, a fresh
coat of paint. Pillows prefer to be fluffed, the
beds beg for flowery, printed sheets, and every
crumb of chometz is desperately searching
for an exodus. We suddenly experience an urge to
fulfill all these needs.
This is known as an acute case of
pesachitis. But don't worry. Recovery
generally takes place at the satisfying sight of a
set Seder table, amid sparkling
surroundings. And with the crumbling matzos
disappear all the fears of crumbs of the other
kind...
