Shevet Gad desired the hidden secret behind his success — his work as a shepherd

“Bnei Reuven and Gad had a lot of cattle, and they saw the land… and it was a place for livestock.” (Bamidbar 32:1)

Just before Moshe’s death, he blessed each of the shevatim. When blessing Gad, he mentioned they’d requested for themselves the territory of Sichon and Og, because they knew that’s where Moshe’s burial plot would be hidden. However, in our parshah, the Torah explicitly records that the reason they wanted this portion of land was because it was well-suited for grazing their abundant livestock. Which reason was it? (Rav Ozer Alport, Parsha Potpourri)

I

try hard to redt shidduchim. When I think of a shidduch I’m usually completely gung-ho. This. Is. Perfect! In my excitement, I forget that either side may not share my enthusiasm for the match. When that happens, I usually back down. I can be persistent, often bordering on tenacious, but with shidduchim, what do I know?

Except for once.

Rav Yisroel Belsky explains that during their 40 years in the wilderness, Bnei Yisrael were very dependent on Moshe. As they prepared to enter Eretz Yisrael, they grew concerned how they’d manage in his absence. They decided they needed to understand the secret behind Moshe’s greatness to emulate him. After contemplation, they recognized that the period of his life when he worked as a shepherd was a critical prerequisite to his being selected as the redeemer and leader of Bnei Yisrael.

Rabbeinu Bechaye explains that working alone as a shepherd forges a deep connection to Hashem. Furthermore, through caring for the sheep, a shepherd develops feelings of compassion and empathy for others.

I was redting a shidduch that I thought was very “tzu gepast.” (For those who don’t speak Yiddish: in my language, this was IT!)

I was talking with the mother of the boy and extolling the girl’s maalos. She was sweet, refined, smart, funny — a girl I’d love as my own daughter-in-law. (Spoiler alert: My boys are not yet in shidduchim.)

“Remind me what she does?” asked the mother.

“She has a master’s in early childhood education and is the main morah in a well-paying school. You should see how the girls love her!”

Immediately, the mother’s voice changed.  “Kindergarten?” (You’d think I’d suggested her son go out with a tattoo artist.) “We’re not looking for a kindergarten teacher. We want someone more career oriented.”

When Shevet Gad requested the land for pasture, their intentions were not as materialistic as they appeared. Rather, they were motivated by a genuine desire to emulate their soon-to-depart leader Moshe, following the path that made him great. In this light, Rav Belsky suggests that the two seemingly disparate explanations given for their request are the same. When Moshe said that Shevet Gad desired the portion of his hidden burial plot, he wasn’t referring to his actual grave. It was the hidden secret behind his success that they wished to emulate — his work as a shepherd.

I should’ve minded my business, thanked her politely, and hung up. But somehow, the words came marching out of my mouth before I could stop them. (It didn’t hurt that one of my daughters is a kindergarten teacher with a degree, and an incredible wife and mommy, too!)

“I have nothing against women with careers. But here I’m offering you a woman with a career that completely aligns itself with attributes that go with being a successful wife and mother. Who would you like to be caring for your grandchildren? An actuary or a kindergarten teacher? (Please no letters to the editor about actuaries who are wonderful people. That was just the profession that jumped out of my mouth.)

“Personally, a few years down the line, you may change your tune when your son has a houseful of kids, and his smiling, warm wife knows just how to make them happy. Don’t you think that would make your son happy? And I’d think that would make you happy, too, no?”

There was no response. Thankfully, I came to my senses, and politely said goodbye. But I was shaking. How have we gotten so lost that a kindergarten teacher is considered substandard for raising the next generation of Klal Yisrael?

This mother obviously had never read one of my favorite essays: Everything I need to know I learned in kindergarten.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 953)