Every year, as we gather around the Passover seder table, we retell a story that is both ancient and deeply personal. But if I’m honest, I have to admit that Passover has never been just a story to me. It feels like a mirror.

That’s because Passover is not just a remembrance of the Israelites’ exodus from Egypt. It is a call to look at our own lives and ask:

“Where am I still not free?” “Where am I still playing small?” “Where am I being called to rise?”

Mitzrayim, the Hebrew word for Egypt, means “narrow place.”  I suspect we each have our own version of existing in a narrow place. I know I do.

Sometimes it’s a retreat into fear. Sometimes it’s a retreat into silence. Sometimes it’s that voice inside that says, “Stay quiet, stay safe; Don’t take up too much space.”

Passover teaches us that liberation is possible. It doesn’t let us stay in that narrow space. It pushes us. Sometimes gently. Sometimes not. But always forward.

And here’s the part we don’t talk about enough: Freedom is not a single moment. It’s not the parting of the sea. It’s everything that comes before and everything that comes after. It’s messy. It’s uncomfortable. It requires courage. And, more than anything, it requires people to walk it with you. That’s where Hadassah comes in.

Hadassah is not just an organization. It is a place where women step out of their own narrow places and into something bigger than themselves.

Into leadership. Into purpose. Into impact. And, for so many of us, it is truly lifechanging. Because none of us do this alone.

Passover reminds us of that. The Israelites didn’t leave Egypt one by one. They left together. It took courage, yes, but it also took community. It took people willing to step forward even when they were terrified. Sound familiar? Because that’s exactly what happens in Hadassah.

Women may initially walk into a new space unsure, uncertain and sometimes not even believing they belong in the room. But somehow, over time, they begin to rise. Not because they had it all figured out from the beginning, but because someone believed in them before they believed in themselves. And that belief? It can be lifechanging.

At the Passover seder, we are told to see ourselves as if we personally left Egypt.

Not our ancestors. Not someone else. Us.

That has always felt like a big ask. Because it means the story isn’t over. It means we are still part of the story.

Maybe our “Egypt” doesn’t look like being slaves. Maybe it looks like hesitation. Like self-doubt. Like sitting in a room and knowing you have something to say but choosing not to say it. Passover challenges that.

It tells us you don’t have to be ready. You just have to be willing.

There’s a moment in the Exodus story that I think about a lot: The Israelites are standing at the edge of the Red Sea. Behind them is the Egyptian army. In front of them is an impossible barrier. They are trapped, again. And then, according to tradition, Nachshon, the first Israelite to enter the sea, steps forward into the water. Before it parts. Not after. Before.

The step before the miracle. The step where nothing looks different yet, but everything is about to change.

That is what faith looks like. That is what leadership looks like. That is what I have seen and experienced through Hadassah — women stepping forward before they feel ready. Speaking before they feel confident. Leading before they feel qualified.

And then something shifts. And that shift? It is lifechanging.

During the Passover seder, we don’t rush through the story. We sit with it. We question it. We pass it down.

Because stories matter. They connect us. They heal us. They remind us that we are not alone. Hadassah, too, has been built on stories —  of resilience, advocacy, healing, and yes, life-saving work. From its hospitals in Israel to the fight against antisemitism and advancing women’s health here in the US, the impact is real. But what matters just as much is what happens to the women doing the work. They change.

And maybe that’s what Passover is really about: stepping into the water and becoming someone new.

As we sit at our seder tables this year, surrounded by tradition and memory, maybe the question we ask isn’t just “What are we leaving behind?” Maybe we ask, “Who are we becoming?”

And, maybe more important, “Who are we bringing with us?” Because freedom is not meant to be experienced alone.

Chag Pesach Sameach. Have a happy Passover holiday!

Stacey is a member of the Hadassah Writers’ Circle, a dynamic and diverse writing group for leaders and members to express their thoughts and feelings about all the things Hadassah does to make the world a better place. It’s where they celebrate their personal Hadassah journeys and share their Jewish values, family traditions and interpretations of Jewish texts. Hadassah members are proud of their Zionist mission and their role as keepers of the flame of Jewish values, traditions and beliefs as well as advocating for women’s empowerment and health equity for all. Since 2019, the Hadassah Writers’ Circle has published nearly 800 columns in The Times of Israel Blogs and other Jewish media outlets. Interested in writing? Please contact hwc@hadassah.org.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)