We all know the big picture – the enslavement, the plagues, the Exodus. But what about the countless untold stories of courage, faith, and divine intervention that kept hope alive in the darkest of times?
One particularly harrowing detail, according to Ginzberg in Legends of the Jews, involves Pharaoh's attempt to control the Israelite population at its source. He commanded that only Egyptian midwives attend to the Israelite women. These midwives were tasked with a horrifying mission: to ensure that no male child survived birth. They were to gather precise information about delivery times and to be utterly vigilant in their deadly work. The penalty for disobedience was severe: any family caught concealing a newborn boy, along with all their kin, would face death.
Can you imagine the despair? The fear? It’s no surprise that many Hebrew men, overwhelmed by this decree, chose to distance themselves from their wives. But Ginzberg also tells us that those who maintained their faith in God were not abandoned. These brave couples continued to live as husband and wife, trusting in a power greater than Pharaoh’s.
The stories get even more incredible. When the time came for these women to give birth, they would venture into the fields. There, they would deliver their babies and, incredibly, leave them. It sounds impossible, doesn't it? But remember, this is a story steeped in faith and divine intervention.
The Lord, who had promised their ancestors to multiply their descendants, sent an angel to care for these vulnerable newborns. This angel would wash and anoint the babies, stretch their tiny limbs, and swaddle them. The angel even provided sustenance, giving them two smooth pebbles. From one pebble, they miraculously sucked milk, and from the other, honey.
And it gets even wilder. God caused the infants' hair to grow down to their knees, forming a protective garment. Then, the earth itself would open up and receive the babes, sheltering them until they were old enough to emerge. According to Ginzberg’s retelling, the earth would then "vomit forth" the children, and they would spring up like wildflowers in a field, growing strong and healthy. Eventually, each child would return to their family and the house of their father.
It’s a fantastical image, isn’t it? A world where the earth protects the innocent, where angels provide sustenance, and where even hair becomes a shield against harm.
What are we to make of such a story? Is it literal history? Perhaps not in the strictest sense. But it speaks to a profound truth about the resilience of the human spirit, the power of faith, and the enduring promise of divine protection. It reminds us that even in the face of unimaginable oppression, hope can take root and flourish in the most unexpected ways. Maybe, just maybe, even in the darkest of times, miracles are possible.