We know that CANAAN, son of HAM, and his descendants settled in the land. But the story goes that they didn’t exactly have permission. According to Legends of the Jews, Canaan disregarded his father's and brothers' words and just… took it. He "dwelt in the land of the Lebanon from Hamath even unto the entrance of Egypt, he and his sons." They essentially squatted there.

Now, you might think that ABRAHAM, arriving later, would simply assert his claim, right? After all, God had promised the land to his descendants. But Abraham, in a remarkable display of integrity, respected the Canaanites' (albeit unlawfully obtained) rights. Ginzberg tells us that he even put muzzles on his camels to prevent them from grazing on the Canaanites' land! Imagine that: a patriarch, a man destined to inherit the land, scrupulously ensuring his camels didn't nibble someone else's grass. It's a powerful image of ethical conduct, isn't it?

But life in Canaan wasn't all ethical grazing. Scarcely had Abraham settled there when a devastating famine struck. And this wasn't just any famine. Our tradition counts ten famines appointed by God to chasten humanity. Ten times of hardship, each with its own purpose.

The first, we're told, was in the time of ADAM, when the ground was cursed after his transgression. Then came the famine in Abraham's time. The third sent ISAAC to the land of the Philistines. The fourth drove the sons of JACOB down to Egypt in search of food, a journey that would change everything for the Jewish people.

The Legends of the Jews continues, counting the famines: The fifth occurred during the time of the Judges, forcing ELIMELECH and his family to Moab. The sixth happened in the reign of DAVID, lasting a grueling three years. The seventh came in the days of ELIJAH, who himself had declared a drought. The eighth struck during the time of ELISHA, a period of such scarcity that, shockingly, “an ass’s head was sold for fourscore pieces of silver."

These famines, each a test, each a moment of reckoning, punctuate our history. But the ninth famine, the tradition says, is different. It's a famine that comes "piecemeal, from time to time," a constant, low-grade hunger that never quite goes away.

And finally, the tenth famine. This one is particularly poignant. The tradition foretells it will arrive before the coming of MESSIAH. But it won't be a famine of bread, or even a thirst for water. Instead, it will be "of hearing the words of the Lord." A spiritual famine, a hunger for meaning and connection.

These famines, from the literal to the metaphorical, serve as a powerful reminder: What are we truly hungry for? Are we mindful of the resources we have, both physical and spiritual? And are we, like Abraham with his muzzled camels, careful not to take what isn't rightfully ours?