27 Jun NO REGRETS

The end of an era. Bnei Yisroel’s forty-
year journey through the desert was

coming to a close. Forty years of travels,
encampments and life lessons, during
which members of the older generation
passed away.
In Parshas Chukas, we learn of the loss
of two beloved leaders, Miriam and
Aaron.
“…Vayeishev ha-am b’Kadesh, vatomos
shom Miriam, vatikaver shom, The
people settled in Kadesh, and Miriam
died there, and was buried there. V’lo
hayah mayim la’edah, And there wasn’t
water for the people.” (Bamidbar 20:1-2)

“… Vayomos Aaron shom b’rosh Ha-
Hor, Aaron died there at the top of Mount

Hor. …. Va-yivku es Aaron shloshim
yom kol Beis Yisroel, And the entire
nation wept for Aaron’s death for thirty
days.” (Bamidbar 20:28-29)

While the Torah tells us that the entire
nation was mourning for Aaron,
following Miriam’s death, the Chumash
speaks of the people’s sudden loss of
water. Rashi cites from the Talmud that
from this pasuk we learn that Bnei
Yisroel’s supply of refreshing drinking
water was in Miriam’s merit.
Chazal teach that three Divine gifts
graced the nation in the desert – Manna,
Ananei HaKavod (Clouds of Glory) and
Be’er Miriam (the Well of Miriam).
The manna fell in the z’chus, merit of
Moshe Rabbeinu. Moshe provided
spiritual sustenance for the people, while
the manna provided physical sustenance.
The Clouds of Glory were in merit of
Aaron HaKohein. Aaron was an oheiv
shalom, a rodeph sholom, a lover of
peace and a pursuer of peace. He brought
sholom bayis, peace to the homes of so
many. The clouds surrounded the nation,
symbolic of a strong dwelling, the
protective and peaceful homes that Aaron
had a part of.

The thirst-quenching water came
from the Be’er Miriam, Miriam’s
Well. In Miriam’s merit, a magical
well traveled with Bnei Yisroel,
providing water, not only for
themselves but also for their sheep
and cattle. With Miriam’s death,
the well dried up, and the source of
water was no more.
We recall that when Miriam was
as a young girl, she hid behind the
bulrushes, watching over her baby
brother Moshe, who was lovingly tucked
in a basket floating on the Nile. When
Miriam saw Pharaoh’s daughter pull the
basket out of the river, she fearlessly
approached her, telling her that she knew
of a perfect baby nurse (Her’s and
Moshe’s mother, of course). In the z’chus
of Miriam standing by the waterside, the
miraculous well accompanied the nation.
Miriam died at Kadesh. A name that
alludes to the kedusha, the sanctity that
personified Miriam’s life. Miriam’s
neshamah was filled with emunah and
bitachon, elevating her very being to a
place of holiness. She convinced her
parents to overcome so many
challenges and remain together under
the bleakest of circumstances in
Mitzrayim. She assumed the
responsibility of “Puah”, helping to
bring life into the world where all was
dark and seemingly hopeless. And it
Miriam who, with a tambourine in her
hand, told the women of Am Yisroel to
never give up hope, but to prepare
musical instruments, for HaShem will
surely perform miracles and redeem
them from Egypt. Later, it was Miriam
who led the women in shirah, a song of
praise and gratitude to HaShem, as
they crossed the Yam Suf. Once again,
Miriam stood strong by the water, this
time by the Yam Suf.
Yet, we don’t find the nation in a state
of mourning for Miriam as they were
for Aaron. The Alshich comments that
because Bnei Yisroel did not mourn
and feel her loss appropriately, the
Be’er Miriam, their source of water
dried up and disappeared. It was only
after losing their source of water, did
they fully acknowledge what Miriam
did for them.
What a life lesson. Unfortunately, all
too often we don’t appreciate the life of

a loved one until it is too late.
Bnei Yisroel’s cry for water following
Miriam’s death was their mourning, their
realization of the miracles she brought
into their lives, and how much they now
missed her.
How often do we cry after losing a loved
one, our hearts filled with “if onlys”. If
only I appreciated more, if only I called
more, if only I spent more time and held
on to every minute with a grandparent,
parent, sibling, child, or a dear friend.
I would give anything to have one more
day with my parents, to be able to ask for
one more bracha, to hear one more bit of
advice, even just to listen to their voice
once again… if only!
There are times when we say “wish I
could do it all over again”. How important
it is to cherish every opportunity we have
to be with a loved one.
My mother a”h would teach that Hebrew
is called lashon hakodesh, for every word
is holy, each word has its own message.
My mother would say look at the words
lamah and maduah, both meaning why.
Yet, they also have a deeper meaning.
Lamah, is le-mah, for what purpose, for
what reason. Maduah can be understood
to mean mah-dai-ah, what knowledge
can I absorb, what can I learn.
Death is hard to comprehend. We ask
lamah, we ask maduah. Not
understanding, we ask why. But instead
of why, we should ask le-mah, for what
purpose, mah-dai-ah, what can I learn.
To take a lesson from Miriam’s death, to
learn to appreciate what our loved one’s
meant to us and everything they did for
us during their lifetime. To see the good
and to acknowledge it, unlike the nation
that had to wait until it was too late, until
the well dried up, before realizing the
blessing of having Miriam in their midst.