Hakaras Hatov: The Foundation of Emunah

Topics

• Hakaras Hatov: The Foundation of Emunah
• Why Moshe Rabbeinu Did Not Strike the Nile
• The Egyptians Had to Turn to the Jews for Water
• Why Did the Frogs Also Come from the Nile?
• "Lo Yada Es Yosef" Leads to "Lo Yadati Es Hashem"
• Makkas Dam as a Lesson in Hakaras Hatov
• The Frog That Remembered Its Benefactor
• Why the Nile Could Not Be Struck by Moshe
• Hakaras Hatov to an Inanimate Object
• Why Thank Someone Who Was Obligated to Help?
• My Zeide's Letter to the Americana Hotel
• Rav Pam and the Kitchen Workers
• Rav Shlomo Zalman and the Bus Driver
• The Good Guest and the Bad Guest

Transcript

# Hakaras Hatov: The Foundation of Emunah

## Why Moshe Rabbeinu Did Not Strike the Nile

This week's *parashah* brings us to the beginning of the **Ten Makkos**. There is so much to say about the makkos; the Haggados and *mefarshim* are full of explanations. But I want to share a *yesod* that became clearer to me this year.

Everybody knows the teaching that **Moshe Rabbeinu did not personally strike the waters of the Nile**, nor did he personally strike the dust of Mitzrayim for the makkos that involved them.

Rashi on **Shemos 7:19** explains, in the case of *Dam*:

**"לפי שהגין היאור על משה כשנשלך לתוכו, לפיכך לא לקה על ידו לא בדם ולא בצפרדעים."**

Because the river protected Moshe when he was cast into it as an infant, Moshe did not strike it for *Dam* or *Tzfardea*. Those makkos were brought through **Aharon** instead. Rashi makes a similar point about the earth in the case of *Kinim* (Shemos 8:12), since the dust had concealed the Egyptian whom Moshe had slain.

This is the famous lesson of **hakaras hatov**, acknowledging the good that was done for us.

But I want to understand the teaching more deeply. Every year we learn it, and every year there is something more to discover in the words of Chazal.

We know that the *makkos* were not merely punishments. They were also a *limud* for **the Mitzrim** and for **Klal Yisrael**. Hashem was showing them truths they had denied.

Let's look specifically at **Dam** and **Tzfardea**, the first two makkos involving the Nile.

The **ye'or**, the Nile, was central to the livelihood and identity of Mitzrayim. The Mitzrim regarded it with religious reverence. Their dependence on the river became part of their **avodah zarah** rather than an acknowledgment of the Ribbono Shel Olam Who gave them that river.

And what happened in **Makkas Dam**? That very river was struck. The Egyptians' source of sustenance and imagined security was turned into blood.

The *Midrashim* connect the *makkah* of blood to the bloodshed and cruelty with which the Egyptians treated the Jewish children. One can also hear in the word *dam* the toil and suffering of the Jewish people, who gave their blood, so to speak, in forced labor. These are *derush* themes that must be properly sourced, but the *mussar* is unmistakable.

Now I want to notice another detail of the *makkah*: **the Egyptians needed water from the Yidden**. Chazal describe the Egyptians having to obtain usable water from their Jewish neighbors. Why was that part of the punishment?

At first glance, perhaps it merely gave Klal Yisrael another way to earn *parnassah*. But I think it teaches something much deeper, as we'll soon see.

## The Egyptians Had to Turn to the Jews for Water

During **Makkas Dam**, the Egyptians were unable to use the Nile as they ordinarily did. In a *Midrashic* account, Jewish people had usable water while Egyptians who wanted it had to obtain it from them, even paying for it.

One could say simply that Hashem gave the Yidden a means of *parnassah* even in the middle of the *makkah*. Of course, that is part of Hashem's kindness to Klal Yisrael.

But perhaps the arrangement was also **part of the lesson for Mitzrayim**. Water is necessary for life. The Egyptians had to turn to the very people they had enslaved and oppressed in order to obtain something essential.

That is an extraordinary reversal. The Egyptians had forgotten the enormous benefit they had received from Yosef and his family. Now they were forced to recognize once again that their **chiyus**, their sustenance, could come through the Yidden.

I want to develop that idea, because I believe it is connected to the whole *mahus* of Makkas Dam.

## Why Did the Frogs Also Come from the Nile?

The next *makkah* was **Tzfardea**. The Torah says **"ושרץ היאר צפרדעים"** (Shemos 7:28)—the Nile would swarm with frogs.

Why specifically the Nile? The Ribbono Shel Olam could have brought frogs from the fields or from anywhere. Yet the Torah again emphasizes the **ye'or**.

Some *mefarshim*, including an interpretation attributed to **Rabbeinu Bachya**, discuss the identification of the *tzfardea* and the creatures of the Nile. The transcript mentions the possibility of a crocodile; the exact commentary and biological identification require checking. Our *yesod* does not depend on settling that question.

The important point is that **both Dam and Tzfardea were connected to the river** that the Egyptians treated as a source of power independent of Hashem.

But the frog also carries a remarkable message about **mesiras nefesh**.

The Gemara in **Pesachim 53b** tells us that **Chananyah, Mishael, and Azaryah** drew a *kal vachomer* from the frogs of Mitzrayim. The frogs entered the heated ovens as part of Hashem's command. If even frogs could enter such a place in fulfilling the divine decree, how much more should they be prepared for **Kiddush Hashem**?

So Tzfardea became more than a temporary punishment in Mitzrayim. It became a symbol for later generations of **emunah and mesiras nefesh**.

Now let us connect the two makkos: the Nile and Dam teaching one side of the story, and Tzfardea teaching another. I think they will lead us directly to **hakaras hatov**.

## "Lo Yada Es Yosef" Leads to "Lo Yadati Es Hashem"

What was the fundamental failing of Mitzrayim?

Pharaoh told Moshe: **"לא ידעתי את ה'"** (Shemos 5:2)—I do not know Hashem. He refused to recognize the Ribbono Shel Olam.

And the Torah had already described the rise of a new king **"אשר לא ידע את יוסף"** (Shemos 1:8)—who did not know Yosef.

The *baalei mussar* draw a profound connection between the two expressions. The failure to recognize **Yosef**, the man whose wisdom and planning sustained Mitzrayim through famine, led toward the refusal to recognize **Hashem**.

Think about it. What would have happened to Mitzrayim without Yosef? Who stored grain, distributed food, and kept the country alive through the years of famine? **Yosef**.

And now Pharaoh acts as though he never heard of Yosef. **"לא ידע את יוסף."** He erases the memory of the very man to whom his country owed so much.

That is **kefiyas hatov**—denying the good we received.

Once a person can do that, he can deny the ultimate Giver as well. If he refuses to see the *tovah* done for him by another human being, how will he recognize the Ribbono Shel Olam Who stands behind all the gifts of life?

The *baalei mussar*, from the world of Rav Yisrael Salanter and Kelm onward, develop this connection. The particular printed sources need checking, but the *mahalach* is a fundamental one: **hakaras hatov is not an optional courtesy added onto emunah; it helps form the ability to have emunah at all.**

Consider the Nile. It was the source of life for Mitzrayim, a tremendous gift from Hashem. Instead of thanking the Giver, they made the gift itself into an object of worship.

Now look at what they did to Klal Yisrael. The Jewish people, beginning with Yosef, had supported and sustained them. Yet they enslaved them, afflicted them, and took their lives.

It is the ultimate reversal of gratitude. They took the very people who gave them life and treated them as enemies.

And the Torah gives us the opposite model. It says **"לא תתעב מצרי כי גר היית בארצו"** (Devarim 23:8)—do not despise an Egyptian, for you were a stranger in his land.

Think of that! After all the suffering inflicted on Klal Yisrael, the Torah still requires recognition of the element of hospitality that had been extended in Mitzrayim. It does not justify cruelty or erase the suffering. It teaches that **gratitude must not be discarded even when the relationship is deeply painful and complicated**.

That is true *emunah*. We recognize the good because the Ribbono Shel Olam commands us to live with truth.

And now Makkas Dam comes to expose the Egyptians' failure to recognize it.

## Makkas Dam as a Lesson in Hakaras Hatov

I want you to see that this is not just an attractive *derush*. It follows the central themes of the *makkos* as they are described in Torah and Chazal.

The Nile sustained Mitzrayim, but the Egyptians transformed that gift into an object of *avodah zarah*. Yosef sustained Mitzrayim, but Pharaoh denied knowing him. Klal Yisrael had contributed so much to the country, but the Egyptians oppressed them.

They had received life, sustenance, and goodness, and they answered with **kefiyas hatov**.

Now Hashem changes the Nile into **Dam**. Their imagined independent source of life is no longer able to give them what they need. And according to the *Midrash*, they must turn to the **Jews** to obtain water.

I think that was itself part of the message: **look again at whom you depend on**. Open your eyes. You owe gratitude to the very people whom you have treated as worthless.

The reversal is not merely an opportunity for Jewish *parnassah*. It is a lesson placed within the *makkah*.

And when that lesson goes unlearned, the next *makkah*, **Tzfardea**, emphasizes a different but connected idea—**mesiras nefesh** in the service of Hashem.

We have already seen how Chazal understood the frogs entering heated ovens as a model of obedience and sacrifice, from which Chananyah, Mishael, and Azaryah learned their *kal vachomer*.

I found another fascinating account about a frog that I want to share, attributed in the *shiur* to **Rabbi Yehudah HaChasid** through a later collection called *Otzar Pelaos HaTorah*. The precise original text and attribution must be checked. I will present it as a **moral teaching**, not as established zoological or medical evidence.

The story portrays a frog showing astonishing gratitude to a person who rescued it from a snake. Why do I bring it? Because it links the **tzfardea** with **hakaras hatov**, just as the story of the ovens links it with **mesiras nefesh**.

Perhaps those are not two unrelated qualities. A being devoted to doing the will of the Ribbono Shel Olam is also an image of a being that does not forget the good done to it.

And that brings us back to the central *kashya*: why did Moshe Rabbeinu not strike the Nile personally?

Because the very *makkos* through which the Nile was struck were teaching the world **the difference between kefiyas hatov and hakaras hatov**. How appropriate that Moshe himself would embody the lesson by refusing to strike the river that had protected him.

But we have not yet reached the deeper question. **How can a person owe gratitude to water?** Water has no intentions and no feelings. That is what I want to understand.

## The Frog That Remembered Its Benefactor

I want to read a story attributed in the *shiur* to **Rabbi Yehudah HaChasid**.

A frog was in danger from a snake. A man came and killed the snake, saving the frog. But the man was himself exposed to the snake's poison, and his leg became swollen. According to the account, the frog approached him despite other people trying to drive it away, and drew the poison from his wound at the cost of its own life.

The story is unusual. I have not established its original text or historic context, and it should be treated here as an **attributed moral narrative**, not as a medically established description of a cure for snakebite.

But hear the *mussar* with which the account concludes: **"הנה הצפרדע חס על מצילו יותר מגופו"**—the frog had concern for the one who saved it even more than for itself.

And if a creature can be depicted showing such gratitude, **kal vachomer** that a human being must not be a **kafui tov** toward another person, and all the more so toward the Ribbono Shel Olam.

What a *yesod*! The *tzfardea* teaches us both **mesiras nefesh** and **hakaras hatov**. In one teaching the frogs entered the ovens because Hashem directed them; in another, a frog gave itself up rather than fail the one who had saved it.

I think there is a connection between these two aspects. True devotion to Hashem goes hand in hand with an honest recognition of the good we receive.

## Why the Nile Could Not Be Struck by Moshe

Now look back at the *makkos*. The Egyptians had been **kafuyei tov**—toward Yosef, toward Klal Yisrael, and toward Hashem, Who gave them the Nile.

The *makkos* were exposing that denial and teaching the meaning of **emunah**. The river was not an independent god. It was a gift from the Ribbono Shel Olam.

And the *makkos* connected with that same Nile taught **hakaras hatov** and **mesiras nefesh**. Moshe Rabbeinu himself could not personally strike the water because it had once shielded him. He embodied the *limud* in the way the *makkah* was brought.

But here is a tremendous *kashya*, *rabosai*.

**The Nile is water!** It has no *seichel*, no feelings, and no intention to help Moshe. A rock or chair doesn't make a conscious decision to assist you. When a person gets up from his chair, do we expect him to turn toward the chair and say, "Thank you for letting me sit on you"?

That sounds almost comical. And yet Chazal attach the notion of **hakaras hatov** to something inanimate.

So what precisely is this *middah*?

There are other discussions of gratitude involving things or places that benefited someone, including accounts about great *chachamim* showing reluctance to harm a place that had served them. The exact sources require separate verification.

One common explanation is that the point isn't the **object's feelings**. The object doesn't need appreciation. The point is the **person who received the benefit**.

I want to explore that answer. I think there is even more depth here.

## Hakaras Hatov to an Inanimate Object

We know the familiar explanation: a person must cultivate **the *middah* of gratitude**. Water has no intention and no feelings, but **I** have received a benefit. If I learn to ignore the benefit merely because the object cannot hear my thanks, I weaken my own capacity for *hakaras hatov*.

For years that explanation was meaningful to me. But I still had a *kashya*. To whom am I grateful when the object has no understanding and didn't choose to assist me?

I learned another *yesod*: **hakaras hatov to the object leads to hakaras hatov to the Ribbono Shel Olam Who gave it to me**.

Hashem gave me the water. Hashem gave me the house, the chair, the countless objects that make my life possible. When I recognize the benefit I received through them, I also recognize the **Giver** behind them.

That connects to the broader principle we saw in Mitzrayim. If a person repeatedly denies the benefits provided through other things and other people, he may come to deny Hashem's goodness. But if he learns to recognize every *tovah*, his *emunah* becomes more alive.

This year I saw something that sharpened this understanding. There are collections of brief responsa attributed to **Rav Chaim Kanievsky**. In one of them, as recalled in the *shiur*, a question was raised about gratitude, *nekamah*, and **hashgachah**.

The **Sefer HaChinuch**, in the discussion of the prohibition of taking revenge, explains that a person ought to recognize that what happens to him occurs within Hashem's *hashgachah*. If someone harmed him, he should not simply make the other person the exclusive object of revenge, forgetting the Ribbono Shel Olam.

But if we apply that thought to a person who does **good**, what happens?

A man comes and helps me. I could say, "I don't owe you thanks. Hashem sent this benefit. You are only His *shaliach*." But surely that is not how Torah wants me to respond!

So why does acknowledging **Hashem's role** not cancel my duty of thanks to the person who helped?

That is the *lomdishe* question I want to examine.

Think of **Yosef**. He repeatedly told Pharaoh and others that the wisdom and salvation came from Hashem, not from himself. That was the truth. But Pharaoh was still obligated to recognize Yosef as the person through whom the good came.

The Ribbono Shel Olam sends His *chesed* into the world **through people**. Our recognition of Hashem must not make us dismiss those people.

There is a principle of Chazal **"מגלגלין זכות על ידי זכאי וחובה על ידי חייב"**—a meritorious occurrence comes about through someone meritorious, and the reverse through someone culpable (Shabbos 32a and related discussions).

The response attributed here to Rav Chaim Kanievsky applies that principle: the fact that Hashem is the ultimate source of the benefit does not mean the **human *shaliach*** is irrelevant.

I want to understand that idea more deeply, because it has practical consequences. A person may be paid for doing something, or obligated by a mitzvah, yet we still owe him *hakaras hatov*.

Now let us examine an example that comes directly from *halachah*: **thanking the Kohanim for Birchas Kohanim**.

## Why Thank Someone Who Was Obligated to Help?

After **Birchas Kohanim**, people commonly thank the Kohanim and say **"Yasher koach"**.

Why? The Kohanim were **commanded** to give the *brachah*. They were not merely volunteers deciding whether to do a favor.

One explanation people give is that the Kohanim are commanded to bless, but they bring their own **ahavah**, their love for Klal Yisrael, into the blessing. So we thank them for the extra heart they put into it.

But an answer attributed in this *shiur* to **Rav Chaim Kanievsky** challenges that distinction. Isn't **"באהבה"** itself part of the mitzvah and the *nusach* of Birchas Kohanim? If their loving blessing is commanded, why thank them for that any more than for the blessing itself?

And then comes the remarkable *yesod*.

**They gave you a benefit. That is enough to require gratitude.**

Of course they were *metzuveh*. Of course the Ribbono Shel Olam is the ultimate Giver. But a *tovah* came to you **through them**, and that obligates you to recognize it.

Do you hear what this adds to our question about Moshe and the Nile?

The water did not intend to help Moshe. It was water, carrying out the nature Hashem gave it. Yet Moshe had benefited from it. And so, in the lesson of Chazal, he would not be the one to strike it.

So even when a person was going to help **anyway**—even if he was paid, even if it was his duty, and even if the favor did not demand unusual effort—**I still received something good**.

That is the heart of *hakaras hatov*. We are not merely rewarding generosity when someone exceeds expectations. We are **recognizing the good that reached us**.

The exact responsum of Rav Chaim Kanievsky and its wording need to be checked; I am developing the *yesod* as it was taught.

I want to tell you three stories about *gedolim* that show just how far this *middah* can go.

These aren't stories of tremendous public acts. They are small actions that reveal the way a great person looks at the world. And perhaps, *rabosai*, we will realize how far we still have to go in our own *hakaras hatov*.

## My Zeide's Letter to the Americana Hotel

I have a letter that my **zeide** wrote to the management of the **Americana Hotel** after my parents' wedding.

Why was the *chasunah* held in a hotel rather than in an ordinary Jewish wedding hall? It was a very large gathering, with many *rabbanim*, *balabatim*, and guests, and there wasn't a Jewish hall that could accommodate it at the time.

I came across the letter, and it was extraordinary. My grandfather wrote at length thanking the hotel manager for the flowers, for the arrangement of the tables, for the curtains, for the lighting, for the beautiful service—detail after detail. A **long letter**, not just a quick note.

So I asked my parents, "Was there some special reason for this letter? Did they give you a discount? Did they go far beyond what you expected?"

My parents weren't particularly surprised. They explained that my *zeide* **often wrote letters like that**. It was simply how he behaved.

And no, the hotel wasn't doing everything for free. According to the family recollection, the charges had been quite high! Still, my *zeide* felt a duty to thank them for what they had provided.

What was the *hakaras hatov* for? He had paid for the service!

That's exactly my point. **The fact that somebody was paid to do the job does not erase the benefit you received.**

I also saw a question in a collection of responsa attributed to **Rav Chaim Kanievsky** about expressing thanks to a non-Jew, and whether that raises a concern of **לא תחנם**. The answer reported in the *shiur* distinguishes ordinary, deserved gratitude from prohibited forms of favor. We need to verify the specific *teshuvah* and its halachic boundaries before treating it as a practical ruling.

But the *mussar* is clear: gratitude is not a prize reserved only for people who give us free favors.

## Rav Pam and the Kitchen Workers

Let me tell you something I saw with **my rebbe, Rav Avraham Pam zt”l**.

After a **Torah Umesorah convention**, when the Shabbos was over and people were preparing to leave, Rav Pam would go into the **kitchen**.

Who was he looking for? The head cook and the people who prepared the food.

He would thank them for the meals they had made and for the work they had done throughout Shabbos.

They were hired. They were paid. The convention organizers had arranged everything. They were not doing Rav Pam a private favor.

But Rav Pam had **eaten the food**. He had benefited from their work. And therefore he wanted to thank them **personally**.

*Rabosai*, that is what it means to be a **makir tov**.

## Rav Shlomo Zalman and the Bus Driver

There is a story told about **Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach zt”l**. He would use public transportation, and when he got on a bus he would greet the driver. When he got off, he would thank the driver for the ride.

"But he paid the fare!" somebody might say. Exactly. **He paid, and he still thanked him**.

I also heard an account that he preferred to describe a bus driver not only as a **nahag**, a driver, but as a **manhig**, someone who leads or guides. It emphasized respect for the person entrusted with the passengers.

The speaker refers to a printed collection called **Chikei Mamtakim**, which should be checked for the precise text of these stories and a further account of his loyalty to a regular driver.

These are not spectacular miracles. They are small actions. But they show a person who notices the good he receives and does not dismiss those through whom it comes.

Now I want to end with a Gemara that explains why this is not merely good manners, but a profound part of a person's character.

## The Good Guest and the Bad Guest

The Gemara in **Berachos 58a** teaches:

**"אורח טוב מהו אומר? כמה טרחות טרח בעל הבית בשבילי! כמה בשר הביא לפני, כמה יין הביא לפני, כמה גלוסקאות הביא לפני, וכל מה שטרח לא טרח אלא בשבילי."**

What does a **good guest** say? Look how much the host did for me! How much meat, wine, and bread he brought. Everything he prepared, I appreciate as a kindness extended to me.

And what does the **bad guest** say?

**"מה טורח טרח בעל הבית זה? פת אחת אכלתי, חתיכה אחת אכלתי, כוס אחד שתיתי; כל טורח שטרח בעל הבית זה לא טרח אלא בשביל אשתו ובניו."**

What did the host really do for me? I ate a little bread, a piece of meat, drank one cup. He made all that food for his wife and children anyway!

Now, *rabosai*, what's the *metzius*? Isn't it possible they **both ate at the same table**? Didn't the host prepare the meal for his family as well as for the guest?

Both descriptions may refer to exactly the same external facts.

The difference isn't the amount of food. The difference is **the person's *middah***.

The good guest sees the benefit he received and is grateful. The bad guest finds a reason to minimize it: "He would have prepared everything anyway. It wasn't done especially for me."

Do you hear what Chazal call them? **A good guest** and **a bad guest**. Not just a grateful remark and an unfortunate remark, but two different qualities of a person.

That is the whole *yesod* of our *shiur*.

The good guest knows he is not the center of the universe, yet he treats each *tovah* he receives as precious. He says, "I benefited. That is enough for me to express thanks."

A person can distort **"בשבילי נברא העולם"** by imagining that everybody owes him something. But in a healthy understanding, it makes him **more grateful**. Look at how much was done from which I was able to benefit!

And the same distinction appears in everyday life. Someone makes coffee available in the *shul*. A *rebbe* stays late to answer our *she'eilos*. A yeshivah serves supper. A family member does work that we take for granted. We say, "What is there to thank? They were doing it anyway."

**That is the *oreach ra* speaking.**

So much of what we receive comes through people who are fulfilling obligations, earning a living, or doing what they regularly do. None of that should blind us to the *tovah* that actually reached us.

I have heard it said in the name of **Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz** that little stories about great people can reveal more than grand public events. Small actions disclose a person's true *mahus*. [The specific attribution requires checking.]

My *zeide's* letter, Rav Pam's visit to the kitchen, and Rav Shlomo Zalman's thanks to the driver—these are the little actions that reveal true **hakaras hatov**.

Now go back to the water of Mitzrayim. The Nile had no conscious intention to save Moshe Rabbeinu. It was only water. Yet Moshe benefited from it. And so he would not strike it himself.

**Recognize the good. Even when the other party did only what they normally do. Even when they were obligated. Even when they were paid.**

If we overlook the good in everyday things, we weaken the *middah* that enables us to recognize Hashem's goodness as well. And that can lead from **kefiyas hatov** toward a deficiency in **emunah**.

But if we train ourselves to see every *tovah*, to thank our families, neighbors, *rabbeim*, and all those who help us, our hearts become capable of greater and greater gratitude to the Ribbono Shel Olam.

That is the lesson of **Makkas Dam** and the *hakaras hatov* of Moshe Rabbeinu.

**Open your eyes, *rabosai*. See the good you receive. And say thank you.**