Why Didn’t Moshe Perform the First Plagues?
The time had come for the Egyptians to be held accountable for the suffering they had inflicted upon the Jewish people. God decreed that Egypt would be struck with a series of ten devastating plagues. Surprisingly, however, Moshe (Moses) did not carry out the first three plagues—blood, frogs, and lice. Instead, they were brought about by his brother Aaron.
This raises an obvious question. Moshe was the central leader of the Exodus from Egypt. Why, then, did he not initiate these plagues?
Gratitude to the Nile: A Life-Saving Kindness
The first two plagues involved striking the Nile River. This river held deep personal significance for Moshe. When Pharaoh decreed that all Jewish baby boys be killed, Moshe was saved in a miraculous way. He was placed in a basket and set afloat on the Nile, where he was discovered by Pharaoh’s daughter, who had compassion on him and brought him into the royal palace. The Nile played a direct role in saving his life.
Because of this, Moshe felt a profound sense of gratitude toward the river. For that reason, he could not bring himself to strike it in order to bring about the plagues of blood and frogs.
Gratitude Even for Temporary Help
A similar idea applies to the plague of lice, which involved striking the ground. Earlier in his life, Moshe saw an Egyptian taskmaster brutally beating a fellow Jew. Moshe intervened and killed the Egyptian, then buried him in the earth. Although the incident was eventually discovered and Moshe was forced to flee, the earth had provided him with a brief sense of concealment and security. Out of gratitude for even that temporary benefit, Moshe felt he could not strike the ground to bring about the plague of lice. As a result, Aaron carried out these three plagues instead (Midrash Tanchuma).
At first glance, this seems difficult to understand. The Nile clearly saved Moshe’s life, but the earth helped him only momentarily and did not prevent his eventual flight. Why, then, did Moshe feel indebted to it?
Gratitude Is Not Measured by Duration
Rabbi Matisyahu Solomon explains that gratitude is not measured only by the size or duration of the benefit. Even a short moment of help deserves appreciation. The earth gave Moshe a sense of safety, however brief, and that alone obligated him to show gratitude (Matnat Chaim).
Gratitude Shapes Character
Another question arises. Water and earth have no feelings. They would not be offended if Moshe struck them. Why, then, was this considered a lack of gratitude?
Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler offers a powerful insight. Moshe was not concerned about offending the river or the earth. Rather, he was concerned about the effect such an action would have on his own character. Having benefited from them, he did not want to take part in harming them, as doing so would weaken his internal sense of gratitude. Gratitude, Rabbi Dessler explains, is not only about acknowledging kindness—it is about shaping who we become (Michtav Me’Eliyahu).
Respecting Objects Trains Us in Gratitude
This idea carries an important practical lesson. Throughout the day, we constantly benefit from inanimate objects: food, clothing, furniture, tools, and countless other things. Treating these items with respect strengthens our ability to recognize and appreciate the good we receive. Even though they have no feelings, our behavior toward them influences our mindset and refines our character. In doing so, we train ourselves to be more grateful not only to people, but ultimately to God.
Gratitude in Jewish Law
This principle is reflected in Jewish law as well. The Sages teach that if one sees food lying in a disrespectful manner, one should not simply pass by, but ensure it is treated properly (Eruvin 64b). They also state that it is forbidden to throw a stone into a well from which one has drunk (Bava Kama 92b).
The Alter of Slabodka pointed out that these teachings demonstrate an obligation to show gratitude even toward inanimate objects. The Ri Migash relates a remarkable story about the Rif, a leading legal authority of the eleventh century. The Rif once declined to judge a case involving a bathhouse because he had personally benefited from it. He felt that issuing a ruling that might harm it would reflect a lack of gratitude. The Ri Migash concludes that if such sensitivity is required toward inanimate objects, how much more so must we show gratitude to people—and all the more so to God—for the good we receive (Responsa Ri Migash, 202).
Living with Sensitivity to Gratitude
Many great Torah leaders lived by this principle. Rabbi Yisrael Zev Gustman, the late head of the Netzach Yisrael Yeshivah, made it a practice to personally water the plants and trees outside his yeshiva. He never allowed his students to do it for him.
He explained that in his youth, his teacher taught him which plants in the forest were edible and which were poisonous. At the time, the lesson seemed unnecessary. Years later, while fleeing from the Nazis and hiding in the forest with no access to food, that knowledge enabled him to survive. Out of gratitude to the plants that sustained him during those terrifying years, he committed himself to personally caring for plants for the rest of his life.
Gratitude to the Smallest Detail
This sensitivity to gratitude—even toward the smallest sources of benefit—does more than reflect moral refinement. It shapes our character and deepens our ability to recognize and appreciate the constant kindness that surrounds us.
By Rabbi Daniel Shasha, author of “Living Appreciation”
