My dad had everyone take a turn reading a section of the Haggadah. Maya read her part very well, including all the big words. My mom and dad said how impressed they were. But I think she realized that they were just having trouble coming to grips with the fact she was already in 7^th grade and growing up fast.

When it was Shalzed’s turn I showed him the place. My mom gave him a funny look, like she wasn’t sure if this was really appropriate, but didn’t say anything. Then Shalzed began in his super deep voice, “Jacob went down to Egypt, forced to go according to the Torah. He only went to dwell in Egypt temporarily.”

Nora made a snort. “That’s just like what the people from Haiti and Venezuela and all the rest of them say,” she interrupted. “They say they’re just coming to the U.S. for a short time, but then they figure out ways to stay longer.”

My sister looked upset. “You can’t possibly blame them for trying to escape what they’ve been through,” she said, glaring at Nora.

My mom and sister always clashed with Nora about politics, and I was afraid they’d start to argue now at the seder, too. “Well, it’s lucky Pharoah let Jacob stay,” I said, trying to be light-hearted. “Otherwise we wouldn’t all be here right now.”

Shalzed wrinkled his forehead. “Pharaoh was obviously required to allow Jacob and his family to resettle. If he refused, they might have died.”

“Is that the way it works wherever you’re from?” Nora asked in a nasty voice. I put a hand on Shalzed’s shoulder because I didn’t want him to get upset either. “What about the Egyptians? If everyone from everywhere came to settle in Egypt, they might have run out of food for themselves, too, and that way everyone would perish.”

“I don’t think any Americans will die if we let in refugees,” I told Nora.

“I’m only saying that countries need to be realistic about what they can handle,” she said back.

Maya made a loud sigh, and my sister chimed in. “It would be really great if we could have just one seder without arguing,” she said

“It’s not arguing,” my dad said. He often came to Nora’s defense in a way that aggravated my mother. “Nora is simply pointing out that accepting refugees can be a significant burden, that’s all.”

My mother seemed annoyed, and she was the kind of person who, when something bothered her, wasn’t going to be quiet. “I think one of the messages of the holiday is that we were once refugees ourselves, and so we should be kind to others in that same situation,” she said.

My brother-in-law Nathan cleared his throat. “It’s getting late,” he said.

I point to the place in Shalzed’s Haggadah. “Why don’t you keep reading?” I told him.

He frowned as everyone stared expectantly at him, then finished the section quoting the verse in which Jacob pleads to be able to stay in Egypt because of the famine.

“You know that the people coming into the U.S. aren’t actually fleeing famine,” Nora said as soon as he was finished. “They’re just poor and think in the U.S. they can have a better standard of living.”

“Some of them are also victims of gangs or domestic violence,” my sister said. “Or they are fleeing from a hurricane or some other natural disaster.”

“I think we need to get to dinner before eleven o’clock,” Nathan said.

“It is currently just 8:30 post meridium in your local time zone,” Shalzed replied.

Nathan chuckled. “I think that was just his way of saying some of us are hungry,” I said.

“Maybe where you’re from, you all just eat in the middle of the night,” Nora said to Shalzed.

“There are various patterns of eating and sleeping due to the great variety in the number of hours of light,” Shalzed began.

“Maybe you can tell us later,” my father interrupted.

I was actually quite curious, because Shalzed almost never revealed anything about himself, his home, or  his technology. Nora could be very persistent, so I wondered if maybe we both asked him questions when we got to the meal, we’d be able to make him talk.