Smack me, it's a kiddush cup
Distant ritual memories returned to radical and highly secular poet Michael Rosen on a visit to London's revamped Jewish Museum. Reviewing it for the New Statesman, he was moved by the silver Judaica to write: "When my father died, among his things were two engraved silver cups. I had put them to one side, meaning to ask someone where, how and when they were used. And there they are! I smack my head, in the same way he used to smack his head: kiddush cups! Of course. Didn't I sometimes go over to my friend Brian's house on a Friday night, and didn't his dad say a prayer and didn't we then drink out of a kiddush cup?"