Laban certainly did.

The Torah tells us that Laban, father of Leah and Rachel, sent Jacob away with blessings after their fraught twenty years together. He kissed his grandchildren, blessed his daughters. Seemed like a touching farewell, right?

But according to Legends of the Jews, Ginzberg's masterful compilation of rabbinic stories, Laban's heart wasn't in it. Deep down, he was seething, regretting Jacob's escape with his family and wealth. He couldn't bear that Jacob had outsmarted him, prospered under his roof, and then...left.

How do we know? Well, Laban immediately dispatched a message to Esau, Jacob's vengeful brother, carried by his son Beor and a team of ten companions. The message, dripping with self-pity and thinly veiled malice, paints a very different picture than the tearful goodbye.

Imagine the scene: Beor, riding hard, finally reaching Esau. He hands over Laban's carefully crafted plea: "Hast thou heard what Jacob thy brother has done unto me?" Laban whines, recounting how he took Jacob in "naked and bare," treated him with honor, gave him his daughters (and maids!) as wives. He emphasizes how God blessed Jacob because of him, Laban, leading to an abundance of wealth.

Then comes the twist. "But when he saw that his wealth increased, he left me while I went to shear my sheep, and he rose up and fled in secrecy." The betrayal! The audacity! Laban laments how Jacob put his wives and children on camels, stole away with all the livestock and possessions acquired in Laban's land, intending to return to his father Isaac in Canaan.

And the kicker? "And he did not suffer me to kiss my sons and daughters, and he carried away my daughters as captives of the sword, and he also stole my gods, and he fled." The accusation of stealing his teraphim, his household idols, adds a layer of religious offense to Laban's economic grievances.

Laban then reveals Jacob's current location: "I have left him in the mountain of the brook of Jabbok, he and all belonging to him, not a jot of his substance is lacking." He practically hands Esau a roadmap to his brother's destruction. "If it be thy wish to go to him, go, and there wilt thou find him, and thou canst do unto him as thy soul desireth." The invitation to revenge is clear, brutal, and chilling.

Laban's message reveals the dark underbelly of family relationships, the envy and resentment that can fester beneath a surface of polite blessings. It reminds us that words, even seemingly kind ones, can mask deeper, more sinister intentions. And it sets the stage for the next dramatic encounter in Jacob's life: the impending confrontation with his brother Esau. What will happen when these two brothers, burdened by their past, finally meet again?