My daughter had a difficult time falling asleep. I knew that she would. The last words she said to me after we turned out the lights and said goodnight was, " I am uncomfortable about this test, can I go to school late tomorrow." I told her not to worry, kissed her good night and headed downstairs. But I knew, gosh I knew. For the first hour I was spared. She kept getting out of bed and going to mommy. "I can't sleep, I don't know what's wrong, I just can't sleep." Finally, mommy went to bed. There I was, quietly watching the college football championship game and the stairs began to creak. "Daddy, I don't know what is wrong, but I can't sleep." I looked up before she could get down the last step. "Can't sleep? Of course you can't sleep. Who can sleep when she is out of bed, walking around and telling people she can't sleep? If you want to go to sleep, go back to bed, lie down and don't get up."So she turned around and went back to her bedroom. I had hoped I was done, but I knew, gosh I knew. I knew that she would be back down at least one more time. As the second quarter is ending and now it is 10:30 at night, the stairs begin to creak, the sound of muffled breathing through tears can be heard and my daughter is down stairs in the family room, tears in her eyes. Through her sobs she says, "I can't sleep, I don't know what's wrong with me?" I am not so wise but somethings are so obvious. "You are nervous about your test. Come here, sit by me. You can watch the game with me or close your eyes, but just come here." For the first few minutes I watched her. She refused to watch the game. Instead she lay there thinking about why she can't fall asleep, and how would she function the next day. Finally I told her that the more she thinks about it, the more she worries, the more difficult it will be to fall asleep. "Stop thinking about it and let's watch the halftime ceremonies." She lay and quietly watched. Within the first 3 minutes of the 2nd half, she finally fell asleep. I carried her back up to bed. This morning she asked me how she got to bed since the last thing she remembers was halftime during the national championship game. How she awoke in bed? Is she kidding? She couldn't assume that I carried her back upstairs to bed? That I let her fall asleep on the sofa and calmed her down until she fell asleep? Where's the gratitude? Not even a "daddy, you were right. I was worried about the math test." Nothing, not a word, not a passing thought. Perhaps gratitude is something that needs to be taught and learned. It would be nice if my daughter had enough intellectual and spiritual courage to assume that dear old dad soothed her while she was worried, got her to relax and eventually carried her up to her own bed.
In Parsha Beshallach, Bnai Yisroel begins the journey of freedom. They are thrown out by Pharaoh. Departing with Moshe at their lead, Bnai Yisroel makes its way toward the Yam Suf. There, a week or so after leaving Egypt, Pharaoh has gathered his army, his chariots and horses and begins pursuing Bnai Yisroel. Of course, Bnai Yisroel complain to Moshe. A cloud by day and the fire by night protect them for a short time. On the banks of the Yam Suf, they complain again since they are now being chased into the sea. They scream and complain to Moshe, Moshe prays and God tells him to stop praying and start walking through the Sea. Miraculously the sea opens up and Bnai Yisroel passes through but closes upon the Egyptians. Safely on the other side, Bnai Yisroel acknowledges that they just experienced something miraculous and offer a Song of Praise - Az Yashir Moshe. After rejoicing, the people complain that they are hungry and thirsty. Even worse, they add to the complaint by claiming that they were never hungry or thirsty in Egypt. They complain about their seemingly unquenchable thirst and hunger and God offers them water and Manna. They are attacked by the Amalekites but eventually God causes Bnai Yisroel to defeat the Amalekites.
I am always amazed about the complaining. I suppose we can complain if we want. But it strikes me as incredibly chutzpadik to complain about anything after experiencing the miracle at the Yam Suf. Eventually, and usually when we do "without" do we become more appreciative, more aware that there is a presence in our lives. Incredibly, my daughter went into the car and we headed off to school. As we pulled into the parking lot she commented in an almost off handed manner, "I guess you were right, I shouldn't have worried so much about the test and just tried to relax. I am going to bed early tonight and I will try not to worry about anything." Needless to say, that little bit of gratitude made shlepping her upstairs and dealing with her anxiety worth while.
Peace,
Rav Yitz
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