Tonight’s seder is tiny.

But my table is full. It is filled with my family, and I can call up their spirit at a mere glance. It is set with my mother’s hand-painted  Seder plate, and with my great-aunt and grandmother’s china. We will say kiddish with my great-grandfather Abraham’s silver kiddish cup and eat the food with sterling silverware that my Nana Rose and great-grandmother Rebeca used at their own seders over a century ago.

I have only to look at the ceramic Miriam’s Cup and recall my Aunt Judy, who gifted it to me. The familiar wine-stained Maxwell House Haggadahs are the ones my mother got for free at our neighborhood A&P in 1959 and have been read from by family and friends every year since then.

If I feel alone, I have only to look down at my table and call up the presence of all my beloved family, and this tiny table is full, as is my heart.

Wishing all my friends and family who celebrate a very meaningful Passover.

Chag Pesach Sameach