As I write this essay the entire Jewish world is gripped with multiple emotions.

Anticipation for the release of the hostages. Silent joy for the hoped for reunion of the hostages with their most loved ones. Fear over how many of those hostages will return home alive. Anger and horror over the inequity of the exchange of innocent hostages for murderous terrorists. Worry over whether the promises of our enemies will be kept. Deep pain over the many hundreds who valiantly gave their lives to achieve peace and the eradication of our enemies, and the frustrating doubt if indeed we will accomplish that goal. Anxiety over what the future holds in store for us with this compromised deal.

How will things turn out? How do we distill all these conflicting and tortuous emotions until such time as it does become clear?

There was one similar pivotal moment at the inception of the story of the exodus from Egypt that seemed to have encapsulated many of these feelings.

Moshe, the future savior of our people, could no longer be concealed. His desperate mother, Yocheved, with great trepidation prepares a basket and places her child into it, leaving it among the reeds at the bank of the crocodile infested river.

Moshe's devoted sister, Miriam, having provoked her parents to reunite and beget Moshe, stands in the distance with great optimism, confidently anticipating she will observe his ultimately being saved.

The Torah reports how even before her discovery of the baby Moshe, the daughter of Pharaoh 'went down to the bathe על היאור — by the river'. We are taught this refers to her having cleansed herself from the filth of her father's idolatrous ways — she converted. The verse doesn't indicate what exactly motivated her to rescind her past. The wording seems inaccurate, shouldn't it have said she went down to bathe ביאור — in the river? Why does it say על היאור — on the river? Rav Moshe Zumer in his Sefer Ginzei Nistaros, suggests it translates more accurately as 'on the matter of the river' alluding to her revulsion of the cruelty of the killing of babies, as the verse states earlier Pharoah legislating the Egyptian children should be cast in the water lest the 'savior' arise from his own people.

So, we have, fear, hope, anger, mixed with doubt, frustration, and concern.

There is one more very critical player in this story.

She opened it and saw him, the child, והנה — and behold! נער בכה — a youth was crying. She took pity on him and said, "this is one of the Hebrew boys."

The Baal HaTurim reveals that the 'youth crying' was none other than Aharon, Moshe's three-year-old brother who was crying out of concern for the fate of his baby brother.

There was something about his crying that provoked her compassion and realization that this was a uniquely Jewish trait.

The Midrash adds that this crying would herald the crying at the redemption that is foretold by the prophet Yirmiyahu, "With weeping will they come, and with supplications will I lead them…"

The Midrash says that when we introduce an incident with והנה — and behold, it alludes to a moment of happiness.

Can the cry of a youth over the fate of his little brother possess an element of joy associated with it?

The renowned 19^th century sage Rav Eliezer Papo, in his treatise Pele Yoeitz, in the chapter on crying writes the following:

The attribute of crying is very significant as it says that from the day the Temple was destroyed the gates of prayer closed, but the gates of tears never shut. The holy Zohar on the verse 'She opened it and saw him, the child, והנה — and behold! נער בכה — a youth was crying, says this refers to Israel as the prophet Hoshea states "For, when Israel was נער — young…"' As soon as they begin to cry, immediately G-d shows pity on them… And although one must serve G-d from happiness and with good heart… nevertheless it must be interwoven with each other, the eye with bitterness must cry, though with a happy heart. Simcha — happiness on the one side in the fact that he merits to stand and serve before the Honorable King, and provides deep satisfaction before His honored throne, because there is no greater joy in this world…, and with bitterness he shall sigh that he lacks the knowledge to be a servant of G-d to do what is right.

Aharon, yet at young age was instilled with remarkable sensitivity for the plight of others, at the same time he possessed an inner confidence in his standing with G-d, rejoicing, quietly but steadily, knowing that despite a yearning to grow much greater, he was valued and loved by G-d.

When we face confusing situations throughout life accompanied by an explosion of conflicting emotions, what keeps us steady and stable, constantly striving forward, is that quiet joy in the privileged relationship we have with G-d.

The Baal HaTurim points out that נער בכה — a youth was crying, is numerically equivalent to זה אהרן הכהן — this is Aharon HaKohen. But they are off by 1. נער בכה = 347, זה אהרן הכהן = 348.

The 19^th century rabbinic leader in Aram Zoba, Rav Yitzchok Shorim, points out that 348 equals שמח – joy.

It is Aharon who when he discovers his younger brother Moshe will assume the leadership role of the Jewish, the verse says, ושמח בלבו — he rejoiced genuinely for Moshe.

Perhaps the message is that crying alone is deficient unless it is laced with that inner sense of joy, that fuels healthy tears of longing, not tears of dejection.

It was this display of 'Jewish tears' that provoked the daughter of Pharaoh to pity the child and exclaim "This is one of the Hebrew boys!"

It is that unique ability we possess as a nation to forge on despite the tragic losses, the fear of what is in store, the worry over the present, and the grief for the past.

May G-d give us the strength to live up to this secret of Jewish survival — crying in pain yet sensing true inner joy — because it is those precious tears that will turn into pure tears of joy!

באהבה,

צבי יהודה טייכמאן