With Pesach approaching, the pace quickens. I always lose five pounds in the two weeks before Yom Tov, just from the nervous energy expended in getting out the chometz and bringing in the Pesach.

My mother-in-law, the Bluzever Rebbetzin, z”l, used to just wave away the tension. “My hardest Pesach was in Bergen-Belsen,” she used to say. “There it was hard to get rid of the chometz. After all, that’s all we had to eat…”

What was it like to make Pesach in Bergen-Belsen, not just one year, but two years – two years of a progressively worsening situation? This is the tale we retell every Pesach.