That feeling of hope, of a new beginning... it’s captured beautifully in the image of the "cierva de la aurora," the "doe of the dawn." This evocative phrase appears in the heading of Psalm 22, a psalm often attributed to King David. But what does it really mean?

Midrash Tehillim, a collection of rabbinic interpretations of the Book of Psalms, delves into this very question. It doesn't offer just one answer, but several, each illuminating a different facet of this powerful image.

One interpretation, attributed to Rabbi Pinchas, focuses on strength and resilience. We read in Habakkuk 3:19, “God, the Lord, is my strength, and he makes my feet like those of a doe.” But notice, Rabbi Pinchas points out, it doesn’t say "like deer" but "like does." Why? Because, he says, the legs of female deer stand more firmly than those of the males. It's a subtle but potent observation about the enduring strength found in the feminine. And that phrase, "He leads me on the heights"? Rabbi Pinchas connects it to our own "heights" – our potential, our triumphs.

The Midrash then takes a somewhat… graphic turn. It connects the "heights" to the downfall of the Egyptians at the Red Sea. Remember the story? The Israelites, finally free, watched as the sea crashed down on their former oppressors. Midrash Tehillim suggests something quite startling: that God signaled the sea to cast the bodies of the Egyptians ashore so the Israelites could witness their demise.

The text continues, referencing Exodus 14:30, "And Israel saw." They recognized them. What did they do? According to this Midrash, each Israelite took their dog, placed its foot on the neck of an Egyptian, and commanded the dog to "Eat from this hand that enslaved me, eat from these entrails that had no compassion for me!" This vivid image is then linked to Psalm 68:24: "So that your foot may wade in blood, the tongue of your dogs..."

It’s a harsh, even disturbing image. But consider the context: centuries of brutal enslavement. This isn't about condoning cruelty, but about understanding the raw, unfiltered emotions of a people finally tasting freedom and justice. Afterward, the Israelites, recognizing the immensity of the miracle they witnessed, asked, "What should we do? Sing songs and praises!" And so, Moses sang. And so, we return to the beginning: "To the director, concerning the doe of the dawn."

But the Midrash doesn't stop there. It offers another interpretation, one that connects the "two does" to Deborah and Esther – two powerful women in Jewish history. Deborah, who came from the tribe of Naphtali (Genesis 49:21), is called a "doe let loose," perhaps referring to her fierce independence and prophetic abilities. And Esther, the heroine who saved the Jewish people from annihilation in Persia, is the "doe of the dawn," the bringer of light after a time of great darkness.

So, what are we left with? The "doe of the dawn" is more than just a pretty image. It’s a symbol of resilience, of divine justice, of the strength found in unexpected places, and of the hope that always emerges, even after the darkest night. It's a reminder that even in our own lives, we too can find the strength to stand firm, to overcome adversity, and to sing our own songs of praise.