Our story comes from Shemot Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Exodus. It paints a breathtaking picture of divine intervention and the unwavering faith of a new generation. Rabbi Yehuda tells us it was the children, the very ones Pharaoh sought to destroy, who first recognized God at the Red Sea. But how?

The midrash, or interpretive story, recounts a remarkable tale. Imagine an Israelite woman, forced to give birth in the fields, away from the safety of her home. Overwhelmed but resolute, she would leave her newborn in God's care, entrusting the child's fate to the Divine. "Master of the universe," she would pray, "I did mine; You do Yours."

And here's where the miraculous happens. Rabbi Yochanan says that God Himself, in a manner of speaking, would descend. He would sever the umbilical cord, cleanse the child, and anoint them with oil. We find echoes of this in the prophet Ezekiel (16:4-5, 9-10), who speaks of a neglected newborn, abandoned and unwashed. "Regarding your birth," Ezekiel says, "on the day you were born, your navel was not cut... I bathed you in water... I clothed you in embroidery." These verses, according to the midrash, hint at God's direct involvement in nurturing these abandoned children.

Can you picture it? Two stone vessels placed in the infant's hands – one filled with oil, the other with milk. Deuteronomy (32:13) alludes to this, saying, "He gave him to suckle honey from a stone, and oil from a flinty rock." The children grew strong and healthy in the fields, nurtured by divine providence. "I caused you to grow like the growth of the field," says Ezekiel (16:7).

When these children finally entered their parents' homes, they were asked, "Who tended to you?" And their reply was consistent: "A certain handsome, outstanding young man would descend and provide all our needs." This figure, the midrash suggests, was none other than God Himself, described in the Song of Songs (5:10) as "clear-skinned and ruddy, more eminent than ten thousand."

Now, imagine the scene at the Red Sea. The Israelites are trapped, Pharaoh's army closing in. Fear and desperation fill the air. But then, these children, the ones nurtured by God in the fields, recognize Him. As the Shemot Rabbah tells us, they cried out to their parents, "This is the One who was doing all those things for us when we were in Egypt!" And in that moment of recognition, their faith ignited, and they proclaimed, "This is my God, and I will glorify Him!" (Exodus 15:2). The phrase "this is my God" is taken to mean that they recognized Him.

This midrash is more than just a beautiful story. It's a testament to the enduring power of faith, even in the face of unimaginable adversity. It reminds us that even when we feel abandoned and alone, God is always present, nurturing us, and guiding us towards redemption. And sometimes, it's the most vulnerable among us, the children, who show us the way. What does it mean to recognize God in our lives? Where do we see the Divine hand at work? Perhaps, like those children at the Red Sea, we simply need to open our eyes and hearts to the miracles unfolding around us every day.