That's the story of Job, a righteous man whose trials are legendary.

But what about his wife? We often forget about her, caught up in Job's suffering. The Book of Job itself doesn't even name her, but later Jewish tradition, particularly in Legends of the Jews by Ginzberg, fills in the gaps, painting a heartbreaking picture of a woman pushed beyond endurance.

Her life, according to the legend, became a living nightmare. She was forced to work as a water-carrier for a common, unkind man. And even in her own poverty, she shared her meager bread with her suffering husband. When her master found out, he fired her. Can you imagine the despair?

Desperate to feed Job, she made an unthinkable sacrifice. She cut off her beautiful hair, her crowning glory, and sold it for bread. But here's where the story takes an even darker turn. The bread merchant, according to the legend, was none other than Satan himself, who was determined to break her spirit.

He took her payment and then whispered poison in her ear. "Hadst thou not deserved this great misery of thine," he said, "it had not come upon thee." He made her feel like she was being punished, that she deserved all the suffering.

The weight of it all became too much to bear. Broken and defeated, she went to Job and, amidst tears and groans, begged him to renounce God and die. "Just give up," she pleaded, "end this suffering."

But Job saw through her words. He understood that Satan was using her, manipulating her in her weakened state. According to Ginzberg's telling, Job immediately recognized the tempter's influence, understanding that Satan was behind his wife's despairing words. Turning not to his wife, but to the source of her torment, he challenged Satan directly: "Why dost thou not meet me frankly? Give up thy underhand ways, thou wretch."

And then, the legend says, Satan appeared before Job, admitting defeat, and vanished, abashed.

What does this tell us? Perhaps it's that even in the darkest of times, when our faith is tested to its breaking point, we need to remember that despair is often a tool used against us. And maybe, just maybe, the strength to resist comes not just from within ourselves, but from recognizing the source of the temptation itself. And perhaps more importantly, it's a reminder to have compassion for those, like Job's wife, who are suffering alongside us, their own faith stretched thin, on the verge of breaking. Because sometimes, the greatest test is not enduring our own pain, but witnessing the pain of those we love.