“So Hashem spoke to Moshe and to Aharon, and He commanded them concerning Bnei Yisrael….” (Shemos 6:13)

The Gemara Yerushalmi (Rosh Hashanah 3:5) asks: What did Hashem command Bnei Yisrael here? The laws of freeing Jewish slaves.

Yirmiyahu Hanavi states (34:13-14) that there was an actual covenant made here in which Bnei Yisrael agreed to follow the laws of eved Ivri.

Why were they commanded this mitzvah at this time? The laws of eved Ivri were only pertinent at a time when Bnei Yisrael observed Yovel. Therefore, they wouldn’t be applicable until Bnei Yisrael conquered Eretz Yisrael. If that was the case, why command this mitzvah now, in Mitzrayim? (Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz, Sichos Mussar)

Mmmm. I buried my face into his neck and breathed in the sweet smell of baby.

When my daughter called to see if I could babysit this afternoon, I jumped at the opportunity. I treasured each moment I could hold my delicious grandson, feed him, play with him, and soak in the pleasure of snuggling with his face in my neck, my lips on his cheek.

I agree with Lois Wyse. If I’d known how wonderful it would be to have grandchildren, I’d have had them first.

Grandparenting is a magical world. I get to have all the fun, the delicious firsts of smiles and giggles, and then at night, I skip out of all responsibility and hand him over to his parents while I get a good night’s sleep. It’s a win-win situation — at least for me.

The Yerushalmi continues and tells us that Bnei Yisrael were later exiled from Eretz Yisrael because they transgressed this particular commandment of freeing slaves. What’s the connection between this specific mitzvah and galus?

I rocked the baby gently and basked in a warm glow of contentment.

Bam! The front door flew open and chaos exploded, shattering my idyllic bliss.

“Ma! Tell him to stop following me!”

“What’s for supper? I’m starved!”

Knapsacks were dumped, shoes went flying, and I was catapulted from gentle grandparenting straight into the mayhem of motherhood.

These two questions actually highlight the answer. This mitzvah was given when they were leaving Mitzrayim because that’s exactly when Bnei Yisrael would appreciate its significance and accept it wholeheartedly.

By nature, a master doesn’t want to free his slave. He owns him and enjoys the work he does. He doesn’t empathize with his slave’s yearning for freedom.

Therefore, Bnei Yisrael were commanded this mitzvah precisely as they were about to leave slavery to freedom. That was the perfect time to identify with the blessings of freedom and to accept the mitzvah to ensure that they’d provide freedom for their slaves in the future.

As it says in Shemos (23:9): “…For you know the feelings of the stranger, since you were strangers in the land of Mitzrayim.”

Unfortunately, emotions become dull after years. And although the commandment was passed down from father to son, the passion was not.

Eventually Bnei Yisrael forgot that feeling of empathy toward their Jewish slaves. By doing so, they demonstrated that they’d forgotten that they’d been slaves and Hashem had redeemed them. Thus, this transgression caused them to be exiled once again.

Later that night, when the kids were tucked in and my grandson home with his parents, I was frazzled and frustrated. I’d spent the evening refereeing, reminding, rebuking, and racing the clock until bedtime.

I curled up on the couch and tried to recapture my earlier bliss. Once upon a time, I’d sat holding each of my children in sweet contentment, reveling in their innocent perfection. I’d whisper into their ears professions of my undying devotion, as my heart would fill with overwhelming love. Then, bang, they’d turned five or fifteen and our relationships deteriorated to a list of do’s and don’ts.

I went into my closet and pulled out an old photo album. There was Avi with his megawatt smile and delicious dimples. Binyamin was grinning from ear to ear as he clutched an old teddy bear. And there was Yitzi, snuggled in my arms, much as my grandson had been a few hours earlier.

Engrossed in the photos, I realized this was the key to magical mothering. I needed to capture those intense emotions I’d felt when their faces were sweet and innocent, and keep reliving that surge of love so it fueled me forever. (Originally featured in Family First, Issue 624)