The single most heartbreaking exchange in Genesis is seven words long. In Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Genesis 22:7, Isaac says abba — my father. Abraham answers ha-ana — I am here.
The Aramaic preserves the rhythm of the Hebrew call-and-response. Hineni, Abraham had said to God. Hineni b'ni, he now says to his son. The same readiness that answered heaven answers the child walking beside him. The Targum of Pseudo-Jonathan knows that these two hinenis are the axis of the story.
Then Isaac asks the question that every reader has dreaded since chapter two: Behold the fire and the wood: where is the lamb for the offering?
He sees what Abraham carries. He sees what he himself is carrying. The arithmetic does not add up. A sacrifice has four parts — fire, wood, knife, and lamb — and they are walking with three.
The Targum does not answer the question here. The answer will come in the next verse, when Abraham says, God will see to the lamb for the offering, my son. The silence between verse seven and verse eight is where the test is heaviest.
The Maggidim drew the lesson from the question: a child has the right to ask, and the parent has the obligation to answer honestly even when the answer is not yet available. The takeaway: when your child notices what is missing, do not pretend everything adds up. Trust that God will supply what your arithmetic cannot.