It’s the day before Passover. The children run through the house, pleased that the days of cleaning are over. Tomorrow is a special day, no school and no work, gathering with friends.

I wipe my hands on my apron and retwist the knot in my hair, since everything is falling out of the clip under my dusty bandana.

I look around my spotless kitchen. My critical eye judges everything in sight. The kids will be back soon, looking everywhere to see if we missed a crumb or bit of yeast. They think it’s fun to find a crumb we’ve overlooked. But we worked so hard the last few days, and I’m tired. I hope we got it all out.