Passover eve is a family holiday in which the value of belonging is the most superior. On the eve of the holiday, the whole family gathers together, sits around the table and reads in the Haggadah.
 The written language in the Haggadah is complex and therefore many find difficulty reading it accurately, understanding what is being read while correctly pronouncing it. The various reasons for this range from a generational gap to language gaps or even children who have just started learning the skill of reading. This difficulty and complexity turns an initially happy and meaningful family moment into an emotional experience of embarrassment and disappointment.

 

The "This Passover We All Read in the Haggadah" project’s goal is to reduce language gaps and to enable each person to practice using narrated and guided reading.

Reading accompanied by listening does train for proper reading skills and teaches to correctly pronounce the words. In order for the reader to understand the meaning of the passage in each booklet, a paragraph is presented that tells the story of the act in the current section.

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The "This Passover We All Read in the Haggadah" project divides the Haggadah into four parts while the chapters of each part is sorted in their halachic order. On the eve of the holiday, alongside learning and practicing reading, the different sections of the Haggadah are handed out to all participants and form together one complete Haggadah, not only symbolising belonging and freedom, but also the important understanding that the sum of its parts is larger than the whole, that together we are more equal.
 
"This Passover We All Read in the Haggadah" is dedicated to my father Pessah Tsarfati (Pesach Paul Franzus), who immigrated to Israel from Romania in 1948 and never had the opportunity to properly learn the Hebrew language. Every Passover evening his stomach contracted when the Haggadah-reading began, ultimately leading him being unable to read, to pronounce correctly and to understand the Scriptures. The look in his eyes reflected his heart’s hopes for his turn to read never to come.

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Love you Dad, Michal