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Matzah

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Matzah: unleavened bread eaten on Passover
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"What is it?" he snapped. In the Bronx, it's proper etiquette to snap when greeting someone. I noticed the loaf of rye bread sitting on the table, definitely not a traditional Seder food. I said, "The Rebbe sent me."
An old, life-weary man came to the door with tears streaming down his face. Before exchanging any words, the old man strangely poked and prodded our arms. "I can't believe it!" he muttered...
Once upon a time in a small city in Midwestern America, there lived a very kindly and generous rabbi named Rabbi Shmotkin
Here is Moshe Friedman’s account of the amazing turn of events that afforded them the ability to observe the Festival of Freedom amidst abysmal suffering and death.
"I know that you sent word that you could give only three matzahs, but nonetheless my father, the Seret-Vizhnitzer Rebbe, told me to tell you that he must have six matzahs."
"Why should we wait a whole year? Moshiach can come immediately, and we'll bake matzah in Jerusalem with this very water!"
Sickle in hand, the elderly Reb Zalman, with his broad, regal beard and face shining with joy, was swift and nimble as a lad . . .
It was the 1960s, and a large synagogue in Toronto, Canada, had been set ablaze . . .
When the Soviet government nationalized the mill, they well knew that the Jews would not buy flour without the supervision of a recognized rabbi, so Rabbi Levi Yitzchak was asked to certify that the flour was kosher.
It was Passover eve of 1910. In the town of Lubavitch, every Jewish home was freshly scrubbed. The tables were bedecked with threadbare but meticulously cleaned white linen, surrounded by families about to begin their Seder celebrations...
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