'Raizi and the Passover Plans': A book for ages 9-120 - review

Raizi and the Passover Plans is a children’s book that will also have adults rolling with laughter – and shedding a sentimental tear or two. 

The story takes place during the week before Passover when the wacky, fictional Rosenberg family from Tekoa in Judea and Samaria prepares for the Passover holiday. The antics of Raizi, Lili, Rikki, and Shmuli will keep readers focused until the last line.

The author, Sara-Rivka Yekutiel, grew up in Boston, skipped high school (and has since home-schooled five children in Israel), and graduated from Boston’s University of Massachusetts at the age of 38. She is a 6th-dan black belt in karate and a former five-time US Amateur Athletic Union (USAAU) champion. The highest-ranking female martial artist in Israel, Yekutiel was featured in the book Great Jews in Sports. In 1982, she made international media headlines by refusing to compete on Rosh Hashanah.

I would highly recommend this spirited book, illustrated by Eliana Hagbi, as an afikomen present that all the family can enjoy. Below are excerpts from the first chapter of Raizi and the Passover Plans, for your delectation.

Excerpts from the first chapter:

“I’ll get it,” yelled both Lili, my 12-year-old sister, and Shmuli, my 14-year-old brother, simultaneously. They were in the living room, watching Shmuli’s boa constrictors (an adult male and an adult female) slither around on the couch. 

The boas, Bibi and Sara, lived in separate cages in Shmuli’s room, along with a tarantula, a Black Widow spider, a river crab and some mice...

... “There was a crackle on the line and I heard Grandpa shout, ‘Hello?’”...

... “Hi Grandpa!” I yelled.

“Raizl, is that you?” he yelled.

“Yes! It’s me!”

“Why are we shouting?” he shouted back.

Well, you started it, I thought, but that wasn’t polite to say to a grown-up, so I said, in a normal voice, “I’m not shouting.”

Before I relay the rest of the conversation, I should explain that I was Grandpa’s favorite grandchild. If you asked him in front of the other kids, he’d say that he loves us all the same, but this was definitely not true. For one thing, he’s a middle child and I’m a middle child. For another, we both love money. Also, Grandpa loves ballet (he has season tickets to the Boston Ballet), and I’m a ballerina! I’m named after his mother, who died way before I was born, which is super special. Plus, I am the only one who is willing to participate in his fake stock market game. I will now back up four years to explain.

I STARTED first grade here in Tekoa when I was six years old, but only lasted a couple of weeks. “It’s so boooooring!” I complained to Imma. “The teacher screams and yells, but no one listens. There’s no decorum! And the kids are so mean to each other!”

My parents had a weird concept of democracy. Shmuli called it “hypocrisy-democracy.” We had family meetings every week, after Havdalah, in which we were supposed to discuss our feelings, chores, allowances, and other important topics. There would be a proposal, for example, “Let’s go on vacation! Let’s go to Disneyland!” We would discuss the pros and cons, then vote. The problem was, the adults had veto power. We never did get to Disneyland, which would have involved flying all the way to California, although we went to Superland once a year, which is much closer, in Rishon Lezion, about an hour and a half drive by minivan, and even got to eat cotton candy despite Imma’s strict anti-sugar policy.

So, when I said, “I have an agenda item. I want to be homeschooled like the Schwartz kids,” I expected them to veto it. To my great surprise, Imma said, “Actually, I was speaking to Keren Schwartz about that the other day...” She never finished the sentence. Lili and Shmuli, who found all sorts of ways of worming out of school whenever possible, including, but not limited to stomach aches that disappeared by lunchtime, fake fevers and red cheeks caused by doing burpees in their pajamas, and so on, started jumping up and down and cheering, and Rikki, who was just a baby and had no idea what was happening, squeaked as if to say, “Me too, me too.”

We didn’t even bother voting; it was unanimous. Imma and Abba bought an encyclopedia and signed us up for every after-school activity there was (so we would be socially “normal”). We took: piano, ballet, pottery and chess club. The good part was, no more school. The bad part was that suddenly both parents got picky about chores.

“My goodness,” Imma said, “the mess! I never realized what a respite school was from the constant mess-making.” So, yes. I learned to do my own laundry when I was only six. Luckily, we had a dryer. Most of our neighbors didn’t.

The book is in stock at Pomerantz in Jerusalem, or online through Amazon (or Mazo Publishers, for Israel only). 

• RAIZI AND THE PASSOVER PLANS
• By Sara-Rivka Yekutiel
• Mazo Publishers
• 120 pages; $16