The story of Orpah, from the Book of Ruth, makes you think about just that.

Naomi, you see, had lost her husband and two sons in Moab. Heartbroken, she decided to return to her homeland. Her daughters-in-law, both Moabite women, wanted to go with her. But Naomi, wise and knowing, foresaw the hardship they'd face in Eretz Yisrael, the Land of Israel. As Ginzberg retells it in Legends of the Jews, she worried they'd be treated poorly simply because of where they came from.

One daughter-in-law, Orpah, was eventually persuaded to stay behind. Naomi loved her, loved both of them for the love they’d shown her sons. It couldn't have been easy for these women, widowed and far from home. But Naomi felt she was doing what was best.

The story goes that Orpah walked with Naomi for four miles before turning back. Four miles of companionship, of shared grief, of difficult goodbyes. According to the Midrash, she shed only four tears as she left. Was that a sign? Was it a measure of her devotion?

The text suggests it was. Almost immediately after parting ways with Naomi, Orpah, as the story goes, abandoned herself to an immoral life. Ouch. Harsh, right? But ancient texts often use stark contrasts to make a point.

But here's where it gets interesting. Even in Orpah's story, there's a strange kind of… balance. The narrative emphasizes that nothing goes unrewarded by God. For those four miles Orpah walked with Naomi, she was "recompensed." How? By giving birth to four giants. Yes, giants. Goliath, the very same Goliath who faced David, and his three brothers.

Think about that for a moment. Orpah, the woman who turned away, the one who seemingly wasn't "worthy" of joining the Jewish people, is still part of the story. Her lineage, though marked by the infamous Goliath, is acknowledged. Even her small act of kindness, walking those four miles, earned her a place in the grand scheme.

What does this mean? Is it a simple cause-and-effect relationship? Probably not. But it does suggest that every action, even the seemingly insignificant ones, has consequences. That even in darkness, there can be a glimmer of light. And that even those who stray from the path might still play a role in the larger story. The legend of Orpah, as we find in Legends of the Jews, invites us to consider the complexities of reward and punishment, and the enduring power of even the smallest act of kindness.