Parsha Lunch and Learn: Beshalach Children of the Field Seeing God At The Sea

Mara Benjamin, The Obligated Self: Maternal Subjectivity and Jewish Thought, 64 (from a source sheet by R' Miriam-Simma Walfish)

The central narrative of the Pentateuch as a whole, Israel’s journey from slavery in Egypt through the wilderness to the Promised Land, continually suggests analogies to birthgiving and the earliest stages of child-rearing. The plagues in Egypt, coming wave upon wave with momentary reprieves, suggest painful labor contractions. Israel’s passage through the “narrow straits” and the Red Sea evoke the breaking of the waters and the journey through the birth canal.

Just as with the breast, which changes to take on many tastes, so too the manna turned into whatever food they wanted. Just as with the breast, the baby suffers when s/he separates from it, so too Israel suffered when separating from the manna. (P’sikta Zutarta Bamidbar Behalot’kha)

Excerpt from Dr. Miriam Udel's Like Honey On The Page

CHILDREN OF THE FIELD

(Click here to download a PDF of the original Yiddish text)

Who has ever seen or heard of such a thing: children sprouting out of the earth like grass in a field?

Of the kind sun sending her golden rays onto their little heads and the heaven’s dew dripping its pearly drops upon them?

Of songbirds singing cheerful songs and butterflies fluttering by them all around and around?

Of a soft breeze caressing their hair and of angels covering them with their wings and rocking them with lullabies?

1. An Apple Field

A large, wide field extended not far from Goshen in the Land of Egypt. The field was overrun with tall, thick grasses and a lot of large, branching apple trees.

In the shade of the apple trees sat Jewish shepherds, trilling on flutes, and all around them grazed the sheep: reddish, spotted, and speckled—like flowers amid the grasses.

But there arose a new king in Egypt, a wicked one, and he forced the Jewish shepherds to abandon their sheep and toil with bricks and mortar. The wicked king issued an edict: “Every little boy that is born to the Jews must be cast into the river!”

The Jewish mothers didn’t obey the villain; they hid their newborn boys, and each night when it grew completely dark, the mothers would zigzag their way to the apple field, where they lay down their tiny newborn boys by the roots of the trees and prayed:

Apple tree, apple tree!
The grief, it drives me wild.
As you guard your apples,
Please protect my child.

And when the dew fell and polished the grass with its pearly drops, the mothers cried:

Pearly little blades of grass,
The grief, it drives me wild!
From burning heat and frigid cold,
Please protect my child.

When the morning star appeared and the birds began to sing, the mothers lamented:

Tuneful little songbirds,
The grief, it drives me wild.
Sing your happy little songs
Lull to sleep my child.

2. In the Cradle Pits

The apple trees cared for the tiny little boys, the blades of grass kept them hidden, and bright-eyed angels with clear wings flew down from the heavens: an angel for each and every child. They stroked the children’s little heads so that their hair grew very long, soft and silky, and covered their whole bodies. . . . They gave every child a pebble in each hand, one a milk-stone and the other a honey-stone. After that, they dug out pits near the roots of the apple tree and padded them with grass—as a mother makes a bed for her child; they laid the children in the pits—as a mother lays her child in the cradle; and they sang heartfelt songs—as a mother lulls her child to sleep.

They sang: Sleep, my child, sleep,
Sleep in peace, itty-bitty ones
Close your eyes, pretty little ones
Sleep, my child, sleep
There will come a day of days
When the sun will brightly blaze
Sleep, my child, sleep
Your rescuer soon will come to you
You’ll rise, a generation new!

3. In the “Kindergarten,” or the Garden of Children

The tiny little boys slept peacefully in their dark cradles, sucking milk from the milk-stones and honey from the honey-stones; they slept peacefully and dreamt of the bright day to come.

One lovely dawn, the sun came up large and dazzling, shining seven times more brightly than usual, and spread its rays over the apple field, warm, sweet rays—one for each and every child.

This made the earth split open, and little heads began to sprout forth like pretty flowers. In the blink of an eye, the entire field was full of little children, like a very large kinder-gortn, or garden of children.

The children raised their eyes to the sun and asked, “What happened, dear sun, to make you shine so brightly today?”

The sun replied, “Today is the first day of spring; you should know that during this spring month, the liberator will come and lead you out of Egypt.”

The children asked, “Is this the day about which the angels sang, ‘There will come a day of days’?”

“Soon! That day will come soon,” replied the sun.

So things turned very happy: the children of the field, the flowers of the field, the birds of the field—every last one of them grew joyful.

4. The Day of Days

The anticipated day arrived.

The sun blazed like fire and said, “Pharaoh, the Egyptian king, has a hard and wicked heart, and he doesn’t want to free the Jews; so I will withdraw my light from Egypt and leave it in the dark for three days and three nights.

And that’s what the sun did: for three days, she sent all of her light only to the Jewish children in the apple field.

This is what the sun said:

“Dear, wonderful children! Long have you lain in dark little beds, and you haven’t seen me shine in many days; wicked Pharaoh has robbed you of my light, but now I’m going to repay the debt to you by lighting up seven times brighter.”

The children replied happily, “Dear, good, bright sun! In the darkness, we dreamt of your shining; we have missed it, and we love your light!”

So the sun illuminated the field: beams of sunlight flooded in, and the children bathed in light. They got up, found their footing, and began to grow bigger and taller—and just like that, they were already young men, tall and handsome as date palms, strong and brave—a large army of heroes standing at the ready and waiting for their liberator.

And the rescuer came.

It happened at midnight.

Moses the Liberator came and called, “Stand up, free children! You, who were never slaves to Pharaoh, you who never felt his heavy hand, you who never molded any bricks and mortar, stand up and lead the way for the entire people!”

“We’re going! We’re going!” they all cried out with one voice.

And with courage and pride, with loud singing, they strode to the gates of Egypt, and the entire people, the Children of Israel, marched after them with their heads held high!