Wine grapes blended into red liquid,
Red liquid that dances in grandmother’s glasses.
Young cousins galloping around the table,
Kippahs pinned to their heads,
Parents, uncles and aunts gathered around the table.

Standing with my brother,
Hands on each other’s shoulders.
We say the Kiddush with our grandfather’s
tattered Siddur, his only legacy.
Parents, uncles and aunts chanting “Amen.”

We sit down to eat,
The salted challah is passed around the table.
Challah infused with love and joy,
Passed from the frail, shriveled hands of my grandmother,
To the youthful and soft hands of my baby cousin.

I take my life in glasses of Shabbat wine,
Aged in our ancestry and in memories of time gone by,
Paired with warm nights spent in front of our festive Shabbat table,
Laughing, singing, remembering.

So, raise your glass of Shabbat wine,
To the memories of those we have lost,
And to the memories, we have yet to create.

Abigail Yadegar is a sophomore at Milken Community High School in Los Angeles.