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Miriam Was Five Years Old When She Argued Her Father Back to His Wife

Amram divorced his wife to protect her from Pharaoh's decree. His daughter Miriam told him his logic was wrong. She was not yet six years old when she said it.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Argument Amram Did Not Expect
  2. The Prophecy Before the Birth
  3. The Watch at the River
  4. What the Tradition Understood About Her

The Argument Amram Did Not Expect

Pharaoh had ordered the death of every Hebrew boy born in Egypt. Amram was a leader among the Israelites, and he reached a conclusion that was both reasonable and catastrophic. He separated from his wife Jochebed. If they had no more children, no sons would be born into this situation. Within a week, every prominent Israelite man had followed his example. The birth rate of Israel collapsed as a collective decision.

His daughter Miriam, not yet six years old, walked up to him and told him he was wrong.

Ginzberg's Legends of the Jews, compiled between 1909 and 1938 from Talmudic and midrashic sources spanning many centuries, preserves what she said: Father, your decree is more severe than Pharaoh's. Pharaoh ordered the death of the boys. Amram's decision killed girls and boys both, and killed them before they were born. She added the argument that made it unanswerable: Pharaoh was a wicked man who might be disobeyed. Amram was a righteous man whose decree the community would follow. The righteous man's despair was therefore more dangerous than the tyrant's order. No one could dismiss Amram by saying he was evil. Everyone would simply follow what he did.

Amram listened to his daughter and returned to his wife. The Israelites resumed having children. Moses was conceived.

The Prophecy Before the Birth

Miriam had said more than a logical argument. The Book of Jasher, an ancient text that expands the biblical narrative and was known to Jewish readers at least from the medieval period, records that the spirit of God was upon Miriam and she prophesied: her parents would have a son who would save Israel from Egypt. She said this before Amram returned to Jochebed. She said it before her mother was pregnant.

Amram, hearing the prophecy, returned to his wife not only because his daughter's argument was sound but because she had named what was coming. Jochebed conceived. She gave birth in seven months rather than nine, the text noting the accelerated arrival as a sign of the child's extraordinary nature. When he was born, the house filled with great light, as of the light of the sun and the moon together, which the Book of Jasher treats as confirmation of the prophetic word Miriam had spoken months before.

Miriam was the first person to know Moses was coming. She had seen him before he existed.

The Watch at the River

When Jochebed could no longer hide the infant, she made a basket of bulrushes, sealed it with pitch and clay, and placed it among the reeds of the Nile. She walked away. Miriam stayed.

The text in Exodus says his sister positioned herself at a distance to see what would happen to him (Exodus 2:4). This is Miriam, still a child, choosing to remain at the river alone, in reach of the decree that had started this whole sequence of events, refusing to leave her brother's sight. She watched Pharaoh's daughter Thermutis come down to bathe. She watched Thermutis discover the basket and open it and see the infant and feel compassion.

Then Miriam moved. Ginzberg's retelling records the sequence: Thermutis needed a wet nurse, and the Egyptian women she tried were rejected by the infant. Moses would not nurse from any of them. Miriam walked up to Thermutis as if she had just been passing by. She suggested, with careful casualness, that a Hebrew woman might have better luck. Thermutis agreed. Miriam retrieved Jochebed. The mother nursed her own son inside Pharaoh's household, paid by Pharaoh's daughter to raise the child who would one day destroy Pharaoh's army in the sea.

What the Tradition Understood About Her

By the time Miriam stood at the sea with a tambourine that she had packed in Egypt before the plagues ended, before anyone could have known there would be a sea crossing to celebrate, she had spent decades acting on the basis of what she had seen before others could see it. The argument with Amram came from a five-year-old who read consequences better than the community's leader. The watch at the river came from a girl who refused to abandon the prophetic child she had announced. The intervention with Thermutis came from someone who had positioned herself exactly where she needed to be and then moved at the precise right moment.

The tambourines the women carried out of Egypt were not an accident. They were Miriam's faith made material. She had prepared instruments for a celebration because she knew, in the same way she had known before Moses was born, that the celebration was coming. The men sang first and responded to the miracle they saw. The women had prepared for it in advance.


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

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. Imagine the fear, the tension, the constant vigilance! 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. It reminds us that even in the darkest of times, faith, courage, and a willingness to act can pave the way for miracles.

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Jasher 68Book of Jasher

Book of Jasher turns to Miriam's Vision.

It all starts with Miriam. Yes, Moses' sister, a prophetess in her own right. According to the Book of Jasher, "the spirit of God was upon Miriam," and she prophesied that her parents would have a son who would save Israel from Egypt. Imagine the courage it took to utter those words, to hold onto that hope in the face of such oppression!

Her father, Amram, hearing this prophecy, remarries his wife Jochebed, whom he had sent away because of Pharaoh’s decree to kill all male Hebrew children. They reunite, and soon Jochebed conceives. The Book of Jasher tells us that she gave birth after only seven months. And when he was born, their house was filled with "great light as of the light of the sun and moon." A sign, perhaps, of the extraordinary destiny that awaited him.

Joy quickly turned to fear. The Egyptians, growing ever more paranoid, were determined to wipe out the Hebrew population. The text paints a grim picture: Egyptian women would bring their babies to Hebrew homes, and when those babies cried, the hidden Hebrew infants would cry in response, revealing their presence. A terrifying game of cat and mouse, where the stakes were life and death.

For three months, Jochebed hid her son. But the risk was too great. In desperation, she makes a tevah, an “ark” or basket, out of bulrushes, waterproofed with slime and pitch. Sound familiar? It's the same word used for Noah's Ark. She places her baby inside and sets it afloat on the Nile, entrusting him to God's care.

Miriam, ever watchful, positions herself nearby to see what will become of her little brother and her prophecy. Her presence is a evidence of her faith, her courage, and her unwavering belief in a better future.

Then comes Pharaoh's daughter, Bathia. She goes to bathe in the river and spots the ark. Upon opening it, she finds the baby and is immediately moved by his cries. "This is one of the Hebrew children," she declares, defying her own father's cruel edict.

But here’s where the story gets even more interesting. According to Jasher, all the Egyptian women nearby try to nurse the baby, but he refuses. It was "from the Lord," the text explains, "in order to restore him to his mother's breast." A divine intervention, ensuring that Moses would be raised by his own family.

And who should be conveniently nearby? Miriam! She approaches Bathia and offers to find a Hebrew woman to nurse the child. Bathia agrees, and Miriam, of course, brings back Jochebed. Talk about a miraculous turn of events! Jochebed is even paid two bits of silver daily for her services.

For two years, Jochebed nurses and raises her son, instilling in him, we can imagine, the values and traditions of his people. Then, when he is old enough, she brings him to Bathia, who adopts him as her own son and names him Moses, explaining, "Because I drew him out of the water."

But that's not the only name he had! The Book of Jasher lists a whole host of names given to Moses by different family members, each reflecting their own experience and hope connected to his birth. Amram calls him Chabar, because it was for him that he reunited with his wife. Jochebed calls him Jekuthiel, because she hoped for him and God restored him to her. Miriam calls him Jered, because she went down after him to the river. Aaron calls him Abi Zanuch, because his father left his mother and returned to her on his account. Kehath, Amram's father, calls him Abigdor, because on his account did God repair the breach of the house of Jacob. The nurse calls him Abi Socho, saying, In his tabernacle was he hidden for three months. And all Israel calls him Shemaiah, son of Nethanel, for they said, In his days has God heard their cries and rescued them from their oppressors.

Imagine the significance of these names, each a thread in the tradition of his identity. They speak to the hope, the fear, the faith, and the love that surrounded his birth.

And so, Moses grows up in Pharaoh's house, among the king's children, yet forever connected to his Hebrew roots. His destiny, shaped by prophecy, courage, and divine intervention, is just beginning.

Isn't it amazing how much richness and depth these ancient texts can add to stories we think we already know? The Book of Jasher reminds us that even the most extraordinary lives often begin in the most ordinary, and precarious, of circumstances. And that even in the darkest of times, hope, faith, and a little bit of divine intervention can make all the difference.

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Legends of the Jews 4:59Legends of the Jews

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 a evidence of the strength and wisdom of women in our tradition!

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