10 Jan IN IT TOGETHER

“Vayehi bayomim haheim, And it
came to pass, in those days, vayigdal
Moshe, and Moshe grew up, he went
out to his brothers, vayar b’sivlosam,
and he saw (in) their burdens.”
(Shemos 2:11)
The previous passage in the Chumash
already tells us, “Vayigdal hayeled, that
Moshe grew up. Why the repetition in
the very next passage?
Rashi explains that the first vayigdal
refers to Moshe’s physical growth,
whereas the second “vayigdal – and he
grew up” is meant to convey that Moshe
had grown into a position of
responsibility, ready to assume a
leadership role. Rashi further expounds
on the words vayar b’sivlosam, and he
saw into their burden, “Nosan einav
v’libo”, Moshe saw with both his eyes
and his heart, l’hiyos maytzar aleihem,
and grieved with them.

The Torah uses the term b’sivlosam,
into their suffering. We learn from this
that Moshe not only saw their suffering,
but was “in it” with them. He felt the
pain and anguish of his fellow Jews.
True greatness is attained when one
feels the pain of his fellow. Moshe left
the luxury and comfort of Pharaoh’s
palace to be with his people. The
Midrash tells us that he helped carry
their loads, shlep their bricks. He
wanted to feel their pain, to experience
their suffering. Moshe cried with them
and for them.
My parents were the Rabbi and
Rebbetzin of Congregation Ohr Torah
in North Woodmere. There was a family
in the community who lost a young
daughter in a tragic car accident.
Shortly after the shiva, my mother
happened to meet the young girl’s
father, Mark Brander.
“Rebbetzin, the Rabbi saved our lives.
My wife, Shirley and I, would have

never made it if not
for your husband.
Please convey our
appreciation to the
Rabbi.”
My mother wondered
what words of comfort
my father could have
conceivably offered.
That evening, my
mother mentioned
how she met up with
Mark, and how he was
so grateful. “What
words did you share with the Brander
family?” my mother asked.
“Nothing”, my father responded.
“What could one possibly say at such a
difficult time?”
To my mother, it was all a mystery.
Not long after, the Branders called and
asked to meet with my parents. They
arrived a little early, and my father was
still in shul. They once again shared
how the Rabbi got them through a
most painful and difficult time. My
mother seized the opening to inquire
as to what the Rabbi had said.
“Nothing, nothing at all.” Mark
shared how the Rabbi embraced him,
put his arms on his shoulder, and
cried with him. He related how the
Rabbi came every night. “Every night
of the shiva, the Rabbi cried with me,
and I will never forget that for as long
as I live.”
Shirley explained. “The Rabbi
didn’t even have to say I’m sorry for
your loss. His tears spoke for him.”
To see with one’s heart. It was not
what my father said, but what he did.
Moshe was chosen to be the leader
of the Jewish people, because he
knew what it meant to be nosei b’ol
im chaveiro, to carry your friend’s
burden.
Moshe’s kind heart even extended to
the sheep he tended in Midyan. He

worked as a shepherd for his father-
in-law, Yisro. One day, a little lamb

wandered away from the flock.
Moshe went searching for the lamb,
and found him drinking by a brook.

He had compassion for the little lamb,
who must have been thirsty and weary,
and carried him back to the other sheep.
Moshe saw with his heart.
We must all learn from and follow in
the ways of our greatest teacher, Moshe
Rabbeinu. To be nosei b’ol im chaveiro.
To feel the pain, the distress, the

suffering of family and friends, co-
workers and neighbors. To be sensitive

to each other’s needs. To be b’sivlosam,
to see into their challenges with our
eyes and our hearts.
“Sh’al na’alecha, take off your shoes.”
(Shemos 3:5)
When Moshe stood before the burning
bush, HaShem instructed him to remove
his shoes. To feel the twigs, the stones,
the hard earth beneath his feet. HaShem
was giving Moshe an important
message – Moshe, your mission is to be
a leader. One can only be a leader if he
feels the pain and suffering of his
people.
The bush burnt, yet its branches were
not consumed. It was a lowly thorn
bush, signifying that HaShem is
constantly with us, even when we are
feeling low and downhearted, even at
the most trying times.
Despite the difficulties we have
endured, be it as a nation or as
individuals, our branches are not
consumed. We have gone through so
much, experienced so many fires in life,
but through HaShem’s immense
goodness, we are here. The branches
remain. A sign to us all – never to give
up, never to lose hope.