It is a holiday with a multitude of symbols, all of which become part of a large meal called a Seder. In Hebrew, Seder means "order," which relates to how everything is done on the first night of Passover. In my home, this sense of order begins in the kitchen, preparing everything for the meal. It then migrates to the dining-room table, where our family sits down to retell a story that dates back almost to the beginning of time—the second book of the Bible, Exodus.

At the dinner table that period of history is relived through the Haggedah, a special book used only on Passover, where the story is read aloud by those at the table, symbols are explained, songs are sung and prayers are said.

But before we even get to the table, some of the best moments of the holiday are spent hours before, in the kitchen, with my children asking how they can help. When they were little, I would casually quiz them on each item we were preparing to test their memory. In a laid-back kitchen environment, it was easy to teach and retain. If they forget something, the hands-on preparation reinforced the information.

On Passover, there is a special Seder plate placed on the table with specific items. An egg is put on the plate, which symbolizes rebirth. Horseradish, in Hebrew called maror, is spooned onto another section of the ceremonial plate. This represents the bitterness of slavery. There is also karpas, celery or lettuce that is put on the plate. This represents hope and redemption. In our family we've always used parsley, which is dipped in a bowl of salt water that is placed by each person's setting. The salt water is symbolic of tears, once again for the years of slavery. The Seder plate also has charoses, a mixture of chopped apples, nuts, cinnamon and wine. I always used a kosher grape juice. The charoses is rather pastelike in consistency, symbolizing the mortar used by the slaves forced to build endless construction. This is also one of my daughter's favorite parts of the meal. The mixture is sweet and goes well with matzo. We always make more than necessary.

Matzo is the unleavened flat bread. Because the Israelites left Egypt in a hurry, there was no time to let the dough rise. It is also why no grains—oats, barley, wheat, rye and spelt—are eaten for eight days, the length of the holiday. That makes it tough for my kids, because it means no bread, rice or pasta. And all baked goodies can't be eaten if they have flour, which eliminates everything unless I make it at home with Passover cake mix, which is a potato-based starch.

The Seder plate also has a lamb shank, which symbolizes a sacrificial offering.

Besides the Seder plate there are three matzos on a separate plate; the middle one, the Aftkomen, is hidden, and is later found by the children. When I was a child, my father always hid it, and when my brother and I found it, we would each get a quarter, which seemed like a fortune. With inflation, my children each get a dollar.

There are many other symbols and traditions on Passover, but I think the most important part of the entire night comes at the very end, when a special cup of wine is poured for the prophet Elijah. This has always been a sacred moment for me. The meal has ended, the story has been retold and there is one last important element. It is usually performed by one of the children. At least it has always been that way in my home.

A child goes to front door and opens it so the angel Elijah can enter the home and drink from his cup. Years ago when I was little, my father would pour the wine and say the blessing, and, as the bubbles dissipated and the wine looked lower in the cup, he would say, "Look, Elijah came and took a drink." I believed it was true. When my children were small, we also said the same thing about the disappearing bubbles.

Today everyone in my family is too old to believe the bubble story, but none of us are too old to stop believing in angels and the importance of tradition.

Moryt Milo is the editor of The Willow Glen Resident. She can be contacted at 400.200.1051 or mmilo@svcn.com.