Parshas Shemos 5780
Moshe is rescued from the water and finds the motherly embrace of an Egyptian princess. He has been spared the fate of the other Jewish babies cast into the Nile, and it is time for his sister, Miriam, who watched the episode unfold from behind the bulrushes, to return home and inform her parents that the baby survived. Yet Miriam lingers. Realizing an opportunity at hand, she musters the courage to reveal herself to the princess and offer assistance in finding a wet nurse for the baby. The princess agrees, and Miriam succeeds in “finding” her own mother to fill the role. Baby Moshe is reunited with his family for a period of two years.
This act is remarkably brave. Miriam is a seven year old and a member of the slave nation residing in Egypt, yet has the temerity to approach the princess. Who’s to say that such a show of nerve would not be met with a death sentence? Where did Miriam find her voice?
In their book, Option B, authors Sheryl Sandberg and Adam Grant discuss a number of strategies for raising resilient children. The book is a combination memoir and how-to guide for coping with tragedy, written in response to the sudden and tragic death of Sandberg’s husband, Dave Goldberg. One of the strategies they discuss is “mattering”, which they define as “Knowing that other people notice you, care about you, and rely on you.” They go on to quote research demonstrating the importance of mattering: its ability to boost self-esteem well beyond the home and to act as a curb against anxiety and depression.
The idea of mattering was first conceptualized by University of Maryland sociologist Morris Rosenberg, who noted that the positive affects of mattering only appeared when the child perceived that they mattered to the parents. A parent had to demonstrate that the child mattered in a way that the child could clearly understand in order for the benefits take shape.
Herein lies much of the challenge. Valuing the opinion of a child at times requires the devaluing of one’s own opinion. For the child to be right, the parent may need to be wrong. More difficult still, the parent needs to be willing to show it in order to truly make a difference. Against a default setting of, “I’m the parent, I know best. You’re the child, what do you know?”, true mattering can be difficult to convey.
We know very little of Miriam’s life prior to her conversation with the Egyptian princess. But on the pasuk of וילך איש מבית לוי ויקח את בת לוי (ב:א), “And a man went forth from the house of Levi and married the daughter of Levi (2:1),” Rashi comments that the man and woman in question are none other than Amram and Yocheved, the parents of Miriam and Aharon. Moreover, Rashi adds that this was the second time the same couple was wed, having previously divorced in response to Pharaoh’s decree that all newborn Jewish boys be cast into the Nile. It is Miriam who saves the relationship, declaring to her father that his practice, which would also prevent a girl from being born, was even more damaging than that of Pharaoh’s, which affected only the boys. Amram is convinced, reunites with his wife, and baby Moshe is born.
How easy it would have been for Amram to dismiss his daughter’s argument to remarry her mother. “Miriam, sweetie, these are things for the adults to figure out. We know what we’re doing. Now run along and go play.” Yet he stops, he listens, and most alarmingly, actually considers her words. No, Miriam does not have the life experience or breadth of knowledge that he does. But she matters to him and her opinion is worth considering. Acquiescing to her argument will mean making the clear statement that in this instance, his seven year old daughter’s thinking was more on target than his own, yet Amram proceeds to follow her advice. Not only does Miriam matter to her father, she perceives clearly that she matters to him.
Perhaps the first episode explains the second; perhaps it is Miriam’s knowledge that she matters to her father, that her opinion has been validated at home, that gives her the courage to express her opinion once more to one of the leaders of all of Egypt.
Consider the impact of Amram’s parenting. By listening to his daughter, the redeemer of the Jewish People is born. By showing her that she mattered, she developed the self-esteem to broker a deal with one of Egypt’s most powerful rulers, reuniting baby Moshe with his own mother. If not for that two-year long tie to his mother, would Moshe have become the leader he did? Would he have developed a Jewish identity so strong that he could not bear the sight of a Jewish slave being struck? Would he have been the type of person to kill the Egyptian taskmaster in the interest of sparing his Jewish brother? Would the arc of Jewish history have continued undeterred towards liberation?
Showing others they matter can be difficult. In validating the opinions of others, we admit that our own may not be up to snuff. By following the advice of a child, a friend, or colleague, I admit that I’m at a loss for what to do. By demonstrating that someone else matters, I silently declare that I am in need of their insight. Perhaps we can be encouraged in this exercise by the story of Miriam. She knew she mattered, and that alone may well have been the difference maker in nothing less than the redemption of her nation.