Take me back to the Seders of my childhood and I can so clearly hear my Grandpa Stan chanting the words of Chad Gadya. I always looked forward to this moment because I love a call and response. Everyone would join in on the repetitive chorus as together we cried out “one little goat!” and then we would sit back to listen to my grandfather cramming in the words of each verse:

The Holy One got the angel of death who slew the slaughterer who killed the ox that drank the water that put out the fire that burned the stick that beat the dog (quick catch breath!) that bit the cat that ate the goat that my father bought for two zuzim, chad gadya!

I live for singing with my family, laughing, reclining on the pillows, simultaneously relishing the humor and taking note of the rich lessons along the way. Over the years, I have come to understand redemption—the core message of Pesach—as a peace we feel when we are with our loved ones, when we can be silly (but also ask serious questions), when we can feel safe living our Judaism, when we can truly be our whole selves.

Chad Gadya is still my favorite Seder melody, and I have learned it in many different languages—Yiddish, Arabic, Judeo-French, and more (just ask me and I’ll sing it with you!). Of course I love it because it reminds me of my grandfather, but I’ve also become conscious of the many deep layers of meaning hidden in the seemingly light-hearted folk song. Chad Gadya certainly could be an allegory for Jewish history: The Jewish people are represented by the little goat who meets a myriad of obstacles on a long journey. Or, we might interpret this as a poem describing the paschal ritual of sacrifice in the ancient temple, each of us bringing a metaphorical goat for sacrifice to our own Seder tables. And the two zuzim—that price for the little kid—could represent the two tablets given to Moses on Sinai, or perhaps two zuzim were equal to the half-shekel tax required of every Israelite (Exodus 30:13).

With so many deep meanings sewn into so few stanzas, the piece is an annual invitation for us to connect with our tradition, to play with the themes of Passover in our minds, and to participate and listen with great enthusiasm. When we sing our Seder songs, we build a steady bridge to our grandparents, to our ancestors. When we teach these songs to our children—bringing new meaning to each verse—we build an unshakeable bridge to the future.

— Cantor Emma