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Miriam Returned Moses to His Mother the Day the Princess Found Him

Pharaoh's daughter had a Hebrew infant who would not nurse and a line of Egyptian women who had all failed. A girl was watching from a distance.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Girl Who Told Her Father He Was Worse Than Pharaoh
  2. The Man in Fine Linen
  3. The Row of Nurses at the Riverbank
  4. What Miriam Said and What She Did Not Say
  5. Here Is What Is Yours
Miriam Returned Moses to His Mother the Day the Princess Found Him Click for full size

The Girl Who Told Her Father He Was Worse Than Pharaoh

When the decree came down against the Hebrew boys, Amram sent his wife away, and because he was the most respected man in the community, every married man in Israel did the same.

His daughter came to him about it. Miriam was a child.

"Father, your decree is harsher than Pharaoh's. He is only going after the boys. You are taking the girls too. He takes life in this world. You are stopping children from being born at all, which takes the world to come away from them as well. And he is wicked, so there is a chance his decree collapses. You are righteous. Yours will stand."

Amram had no answer. He carried it to the Sanhedrin, and the court told him that the man who had separated the couples was the man who had to unseparate them. He suggested everyone quietly take their wives back at home. The court refused. Who would ever hear about it?

So Amram stood under a wedding canopy in public and remarried Jochebed, and Aaron and Miriam danced circles around the canopy while angels called out over it, "Let the mother of children be joyful." Every man who had copied him the first time copied him again. And Jochebed, who was old, got her youth back that day. The lines went out of her face, her skin softened, the color came back, and within a short time she was pregnant.

The Man in Fine Linen

Miriam dreamed. A man in fine linen stood over her and gave her a message for her parents: the child coming to them would be thrown into the water, and through him the water would go dry, and he would carry Israel out and lead them.

Her father had his own dream and woke up shaking.

Jochebed carried the child without pain and delivered him without pain. The moment he arrived, the whole house filled with light like the sun and the moon had come indoors. He was not a day old when he stood up and walked and talked with his parents like a grown man, and refused his mother's breast.

He came at six months. The Egyptian officers who tracked every pregnant Hebrew woman had him marked down for three months later, which bought the family three months of hiding a baby in a house with two Egyptian women posted on it, one inside the door and one outside.

At the end of the three months Amram put him in the river rather than wait to be caught with him.

The Row of Nurses at the Riverbank

Thermutis, the daughter of Pharaoh, pulled the basket out of the Nile and kept the child.

Then she tried to feed him. Egyptian women were brought down to the water one after another, and the infant turned his head from every one of them. He would not take a single Egyptian breast.

The refusal was not his idea. The mouth that was going to speak with God was not going to take in something unclean first. And there was the other reason, the one about credit: some Egyptian woman would spend the rest of her life saying she had nursed the man who talks with the Divine Spirit.

So the princess of Egypt stood on the riverbank with a starving Hebrew baby, a line of failed wet nurses, and no idea what to do next.

What Miriam Said and What She Did Not Say

Miriam had been standing at a distance the whole time. She walked up as though she had wandered over to look at the baby like anyone else.

"It is no use, my queen, calling for nurses who are no relation to the child. If you send for a Hebrew woman, he may take her breast, since she is of his own people."

Every word of it was true. None of it was the whole truth. She did not say she was the child's sister. She did not say whose house she was about to walk into. Thermutis told her to go and fetch one, and she went, fast, running like a strong young man, and came back with her own mother, because nobody standing on that bank knew Jochebed's face.

The baby who had refused every woman in Egypt took his mother's breast and held on to it.

Here Is What Is Yours

Thermutis handed him over. "Here is what is thine," she said. "Nurse the boy from now on, and I will give you two silver pieces for your wages."

She was prophesying and did not know she was doing it. The words she used to hire a stranger meant, exactly, this one is yours, take him.

Jochebed got her son returned to her the same day she gave him up, and got paid Egyptian wages to raise him.

Forty years later, on the far side of a sea Moses had opened, the women of Israel came out of the water with timbrels in their hands. They had packed instruments before they left, because they expected there would be something to play about. Miriam went out in front of them and started the singing.


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The texts behind this telling. Some cards carry a translation of the source; others are our own retelling of it, and each card says which. Every card links out to the original.

Legends of the Jews 4:59Legends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg (1909) · Public Domain

It wasn't just a lucky break; it was a carefully orchestrated act of bravery and quick thinking by his sister, Miriam.

The scene: Pharaoh's daughter, Thermutis (some traditions even call her Bithiah), has just rescued a baby from the Nile. She names him Moses, meaning "drawn from the water." But the baby, naturally, needs a wet nurse. And he refuses to take milk from any of the Egyptian women brought to him.

What's a princess to do?

That's where Miriam steps in. As we find in Legends of the Jews, Miriam casually strolls up to Thermutis, as if she just happened to be passing by and admiring the child. She suggests, ever so subtly, that perhaps a Hebrew woman would have better luck. After all, the baby might just prefer someone from his own nation.

It's a brilliant move. Thermutis, desperate to care for the child, agrees. She tells Miriam to fetch a Hebrew woman.

And here's where Miriam's true genius shines. She doesn't just grab any random woman. She races home, "with winged steps, speeding like a vigorous youth," the verse says. She brings back her own mother – Moses's own mother, Jochebed. But, crucially, no one in the palace knows that this Hebrew woman is actually the baby's mother!

The plan works perfectly. The baby, without hesitation, latches onto Jochebed’s breast and holds on tight. Thermutis, delighted, entrusts the child to Jochebed's care.

And here's the truly amazing part: Thermutis, without even realizing it, utters a prophecy. She tells Jochebed, "Here is what is thine." As Legends of the Jews points out, it's an unconscious divination. She then says, "Nurse the boy henceforth, and I will give thee two silver pieces as thy wages."

So, Jochebed gets to raise her own son, to instill in him the values and traditions of their people, and she gets paid for it!

It's a beautiful story about courage, family, and the power of a well-placed suggestion. Miriam's quick thinking not only saved her brother's life but also ensured that he would be raised knowing his true heritage, setting the stage for his future role as the leader who would deliver the Israelites from slavery. What evidence of the strength and wisdom of women in our tradition!

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Legends of the Jews, IV. Moses In Egypt, Miriam Rebukes Her Father and Moses Is BornLegends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.Project Gutenberg eBook #1494, The Legends of the Jews, Volume 2 · Public Domain

The story of Moses' birth is a powerful evidence of that kind of bravery, laced with faith and a touch of the miraculous.

It all begins with a decree from Pharaoh, ordering the death of all newborn Hebrew boys. A truly horrific situation. Amram, a prominent Israelite, decides to separate from his wife, Jochebed, thinking it's better to prevent births than to have his sons murdered. This decision, though understandable, causes a ripple effect throughout the community. Everyone follows suit, and hope seems to dwindle.

It's Amram’s daughter, Miriam, who steps up with a profound and insightful argument. “Father," she says, "your decree is worse than Pharaoh's!" According to Ginzberg's retelling in Legends of the Jews, she points out that Pharaoh only targets the boys, while Amram's decree prevents all future life, girls included. It's a powerful and persuasive critique, highlighting the long-term consequences of despair.

Amram, recognizing the wisdom in her words, brings the matter before the Sanhedrin, the Jewish high court. They agree that he was the one who initiated the separation, so he should be the one to reverse it. And so, in a public display of renewed hope, Amram remarries Jochebed under a wedding canopy. Aaron and Miriam dance, and according to tradition, the angels themselves proclaim, "Let the mother of children be joyful!"

This remarriage isn't just a personal decision; it’s a spark that ignites a wave of hope throughout the Israelite community. Others follow Amram's example, returning to their wives and rekindling the possibility of a future. The text even suggests that Jochebed, despite her age, is rejuvenated, her youth returning as a sign of divine favor.

But pregnancy brings new anxieties. Amram turns to God in prayer, begging for deliverance from the suffering of his people. And in a dream, God reassures him. He promises that the child Jochebed carries will be the very one who will deliver the Hebrews from Egyptian oppression. This child, the dream reveals, will be hidden from those who seek to destroy him, and his memory will be celebrated for generations, even among strangers. His brother will establish a priestly lineage.

Miriam, too, has a prophetic dream. She sees a man in fine linen who tells her that the child born to her parents will be cast into the water, but through him, the waters will become dry, and he will lead Israel to salvation. These dreams, layered one upon another, build an atmosphere of anticipation and divine purpose.

Jochebed's pregnancy is unlike any other. She feels no pain, and at the moment of birth, the house is filled with a radiant light, brighter than the sun and moon. As we find in Midrash Rabbah, pious women were not included in the curse pronounced upon Eve, decreeing sorrow in conception and in childbearing. Even more remarkably, the infant, not yet a day old, begins to walk and speak, refusing his mother's milk as if he were already an adult.

Jochebed conceives Moses six months after conception instead of nine. For three months, they manage to hide the baby, despite the constant watch of Egyptian bailiffs. But eventually, Amram, fearing discovery and death for both himself and his son, makes the agonizing decision to place the child's fate in God's hands. He trusts that Divine Providence will protect the boy and fulfill the promise he received in his dream.

And so, the stage is set for one of the most iconic moments in Jewish history: the placing of baby Moses in a basket and setting him adrift on the Nile. But that, as they say, is a story for another time.

What strikes me most about this part of the Moses narrative is the interplay of human action and divine intervention. Amram and Jochebed make difficult choices, driven by fear and hope. Miriam speaks truth to power. And God responds, not by magically solving everything, but by offering guidance, reassurance, and a promise of a brighter future.

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Legends of the Jews 1:71Legends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg (1909) · Public Domain

What would your reaction be? Awestruck silence? Jubilant shouts?

Well, according to the legends, the Israelites had their answer ready and waiting at the Red Sea.

After the men finished singing their song of praise – a powerful anthem celebrating God's victory – the women, led by Miriam the prophetess, took center stage. A sea of women, voices rising in harmony, accompanied by music and dancing. It’s a scene of pure, unadulterated joy.

Here's the truly fascinating part: they were prepared. The text in Legends of the Jews, as retold by Ginzberg, tells us that the Israelites had already provided themselves with timbrels (small hand drums) and flutes. They had these instruments ready and waiting! Why? Because they had perfect faith that God would perform miracles. They knew, deep in their hearts, that something extraordinary was about to happen.

It speaks to the unwavering belief of the Israelites, their absolute conviction that God would deliver them. They weren't just hoping for a miracle; they were expecting it. And they were ready to celebrate it with music and dance.

Then, Miriam, her voice ringing out, led the women in their song: "Let us sing unto the Lord, for strength and sublimity are His; He lords it over the lordly, and He resents presumption. He hurled Pharaoh's horses and chariots into the sea, and drowned them, because wicked Pharaoh in his presumption pursued God's people, Israel."

It's more than just a song of praise. It's a declaration of faith, a recognition of God's power, and a condemnation of Pharaoh's arrogance.

So, what can we learn from this ancient scene? Perhaps it's the importance of faith, of believing in the impossible. Or maybe it's the power of music and dance to express our deepest emotions, our joy, our gratitude. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s a reminder to always be prepared for the miraculous. You never know when you might need a timbrel.

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Midrash Tehillim 149:2Midrash Tehillim

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.Rabbi Mike Feuer, Jerusalem Anthology · CC-BY

The mystics did, and they connected it directly to the Divine. how do we respond to new beginnings? With joy, with song, with dance! And according to the Midrash Tehillim, a collection of rabbinic teachings on the Book of Psalms, this mirrors something profound about our relationship with God.

The prophet Isaiah (43:18-21) tells us, "Do not remember the former things… Behold, I am doing a new thing… This people I have formed for Myself." The Holy One, blessed be He, says, in effect, "Just as I create these new things, so too should you sing a new song to Me.

So why sing with joy? Because, as it says in Psalms (104:31), "Let God rejoice in His works." We see God and rejoice, revealing ourselves to the Divine. And in turn, God sees us, reveals Himself, and rejoices! "I will rejoice in Jerusalem and delight in My people," says God in Isaiah (65:19). It’s a reciprocal relationship of joy, a divine dance of mutual delight.

This idea of a divine dance… where do we see it? Well, the Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary) points us to the Exodus from Egypt. Remember when the Israelites crossed the Red Sea and were finally free? "Let them praise His name with dancing," says Micah (7:15), "as in the days of your exodus from the land of Egypt." We remember the story from Exodus (15:20) of Miriam the prophetess, leading all the women in dance and song, tambourines ringing out in joyous celebration. It wasn't just relief; it was a profound recognition of God's presence and intervention in their lives.

The Midrash Tehillim connects this very human, visceral reaction of joy and dance to something deeply spiritual. It suggests that our joy is not only a response to God's actions but also a way of connecting with the Divine, of participating in this cosmic dance of creation and renewal.

What "new song" are we being called to sing today? What joy can we express that will connect us more deeply to the Divine and to each other? Perhaps it’s time to pick up our own tambourines, metaphorically speaking, and join the dance.

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Shemot Rabbah 1:25Shemot Rabbah

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Sefaria Midrash Rabbah, 2022 · CC-BY

The Torah tells us, "His sister said to Pharaoh’s daughter: ‘Shall I go and call you a nurse from the Hebrew women to nurse the child for you?’" (Exodus 2:7). But why specifically "from the Hebrew women?" Was there something wrong with Egyptian wet nurses? The Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary) poses this very question.

It's not a simple matter of religious law, because as the Talmud (Avoda Zara 26a) clarifies, Jewish law distinguishes between who can nurse whom. A Jewish woman isn't supposed to nurse a non-Jewish child, but the reverse is permitted, especially on Jewish-owned property.

So, what was Miriam's angle?

The Midrash offers a stunning explanation. the verse says, Pharaoh’s daughter had already presented baby Moses to all the Egyptian women, but he refused to nurse from any of them! Why? Here's where it gets truly wondrous. The Holy One, blessed be He, declared that the mouth destined to speak with Him should not imbibe anything impure. As (Isaiah 28:9) states, knowledge is given to those "weaned from milk, detached from breasts.” To whom will God teach knowledge? To those who are pure from the start.

The Midrash offers an alternative: God foresaw that Moses would speak directly with Him. " To prevent such a claim, Moses miraculously refused their milk. It’s a powerful image – Moses, even as an infant, already set apart for his sacred destiny.

Then there's the moment Pharaoh's daughter tells Miriam, "Go." (Exodus 2:8) simply states, "The girl [alma] went." But the Midrash sees more. Why call her alma, which usually refers to a young woman? It’s because, the text says, she went with alacrity – with eagerness and speed. Rabbi Shmuel adds another layer: she was guarded in her words, careful not to reveal that she was the child's sister or that she was calling his own mother.

And what about Pharaoh's daughter's words: "Take this child and nurse him for me, and I will give you your wages" (Exodus 2:9)? The Midrash observes that when she says "Take [heilikhi]," she's actually prophesying! Rabbi Ḥama bar Rabbi Ḥanina cleverly interprets heilikhi as two words: Hei likhi, meaning "this is yours." Unknowingly, she's declaring that Moses ultimately belongs to his mother.

The Midrash continues, "It is not enough for the righteous that their lost items are returned to them; they also receive a reward." Moses' mother not only got her son back, but she was also paid to care for him! At that moment, the Midrash says, God gave her a partial reward for sustaining children. It's a beautiful illustration of divine justice and the recognition of righteous deeds.

This passage from Shemot Rabbah reveals the interplay of divine providence, familial love, and the extraordinary destiny of Moses, all woven together in his earliest days.

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