Göran Tunström har i boken Prästungen beskrivit hur han kommer till Fjellstedska skolan i Uppsala, en plats där många av eleverna läser för att bli präster. Tunström vantrivs. Han ligger inne på studentrummet och gråter, ja, för att få mer tid att gråta ligger han hemma varje onsdag och torsdag. ”Ingen har någonsin lipat så mycket som jag”.
Executive Editor, desiringGod.org
Imagine itâs the first day of class. Likely you know the feeling. The uncertainty. The anxiety. For some, the excitement. You arrive early, claim a seat, and wait for the teacher to emerge. Five minutes feels like twenty.
Finally, he walks in, briefly greets the class, and introduces himself. Then, to your surprise, he directs everyone to clear off their desk, except for a pencil, and prepare for the final exam. Heads around you turn. You hear a few mumbles, more of confusion than complaint. Is this some sort of joke? You donât yet know the content of the course â
Three flat pieces of unleavened bread called
matzah are stacked one upon another and used during the Seder. The top piece of matzah is never eaten during the feast. The middle piece of matzah is broken in half one half is returned to its place; it’s called the “bread of poverty,” to represent the many years of slavery the Hebrews had to endure. The other broken half is called the
afikomen which literally means “dessert,” not because the bread is sweet but because it will be eaten at the conclusion of the meal. The
afikomen is wrapped in a linen cloth and hidden, usually by a child, till the end of the feast.