Let’s help families in need celebrate Passover with dignity

Close your eyes for a moment.

Remember the smell. That unmistakable smell of your mother’s cooking before Passover. Chicken soup simmering since morning. Horseradish that makes your eyes water. Charoset made of apples and nuts. A table covered with a white tablecloth. Children dressed up, wearing something new.

Now open your eyes.

For the families we are supporting right now, that smell may not exist. Not because they don’t want it. But because they cannot afford even matzah.

This year is different. You feel it too. Prices in Israel have risen so sharply over the past year that even basic Passover foods have become expensive. People who used to manage on their own — a waitress, a cleaner, a small business owner — have suddenly fallen below the poverty line. Many who used to donate to us are now asking for help themselves.

We are asking you to set one more chair at your table.

The idea is simple. On Passover, we all open the door for Elijah the Prophet. We pour him a glass of wine. We wait for a guest we do not see.

But what if this year you set one more chair? Not for a prophet, but for a real family that right now has nothing to eat. You will not see them at your table. But they will be sitting at theirs — because of you.

Invite a family to your table. Cover the cost of their holiday meal.

Meet Lena. She has two children and a difficult divorce behind her. Just a year ago, Lena was setting a beautiful Passover table. Her husband at the head, the children singing “Ma Nishtana.” A normal life. Today, her husband is gone, leaving behind debts. She has no official single-mother status, no child support. Yesterday, she stood in the supermarket and realized she couldn’t even afford matzah for her children.

“I started crying right there in the store. Thank God the kids didn’t see,” she says.

Or Marina. A single mother who always managed on her own. But chronic health issues finally caught up with her. She thought it was shameful to ask for help. But then the refrigerator became empty, and there were still ten long days until her next paycheck. This Passover, she will not be able to prepare a meal for her child — unless we help.

Rachel. Nine children. And despite everything — they are cared for, studying, fed. A month ago, disaster struck: a serious hand injury. She cannot work, cannot cook, cannot even lift a pot. And Passover is the most kitchen-intensive holiday of the year. She needs temporary help — until she recovers. She has always managed on her own. She will again.

Another family is now torn between hospitals. The eldest son had emergency surgery and was left paralyzed. While the mother stayed by his side, the younger daughter had an epileptic seizure. Ambulance. Another hospital. Two children, two hospitals — the mother does not know where to run. The father is home with the other children — what work can he do? And at home, the other children are also waiting for Passover. They also want to sit at the table and light the candles.

And a fifth family. Three children with severe diagnoses: autism, epilepsy, hyperactivity. The mother is also struggling with illness. The father works alone; his salary barely covers medication. On top of that — debts from a failed business.

“I don’t remember the last time I bought anything beyond absolute essentials,” the father says.

They need one holiday where they can simply breathe.

Kimcha de-Pischa is not just a phrase. It is an ancient tradition and a responsibility we all share — to help those who cannot afford holiday expenses. As written in the Shulchan Aruch: “Everyone must participate in Kimcha de-Pischa.” One who eats and drinks but does not share with those in need is not celebrating for the sake of Heaven.

In a few days, every Jewish home will open the door for Elijah the Prophet.

Let there be one more chair at your table this year.

Let somewhere in Israel a family that has already lost hope sit down to a holiday meal — because of you.

Invite a family to your table.

The funds are needed now. Without us, they will not manage. With us, they will have a holiday.