By: Chaya Sora Jungreis-Gertzulin

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.

Shabbat Shalom!

Chaya Sora

Chaya Sora can be reached at [email protected]

This article was written L’zecher Nishmas / In Memory Of HaRav Meshulem ben HaRav Osher Anshil HaLevi, zt”l and Rebbetzin Esther bas HaRav Avraham HaLevi, zt”l