If, as the Talmud tells us, the blasts of the shofar are meant to remind us of crying, (Babylonian Talmud, Rosh Hashanah 33A – specifically of Sisera’s mother – but that is another subject!), then I would offer the following.
There is a moment during the N'ilah service on Yom Kippur that stays with me, always. I want to say that it haunts me, but that's really not the right image. It's more a flooding, a rushing-out-and-rushing-in-at-the-exact-same-moment kind of thing.
Reform Judaism's deep commitment to outreach and inclusion, both of Jews–by–choice and interfaith and multi–cultural families, is a core value rooted in the historic development of our Movement.
I grew up in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, in a predominately Italian neighborhood in which a prosciutto ball was more common than a matzo ball. My mother maintained a proper Jewish home where we observed Shabbat and celebrated holidays as a family.
In my family, Passover was always the most significant Jewish holiday, with memories so deep and personal they feel a part of me. My anticipation began weeks before the first seder, when my older brother practiced the four questions in Hebrew.