There is an amazing Midrash in this Parsha which we all would do well to know. The Torah tells us of Hagar, cast out by Avraham, and her son Yishmael, who is feverish and ill. She wishes to give him water, but her flask is empty. She leaves the boy so she should not witness his suffering. An angel comes and announces that her son will live.
Then the Torah tells us, “Vayifkach Elokim es Aine’ha,” And G-d opened up her eyes, “va’taira b’air mayim,” and she saw a well of water. The well had been there the whole time, but Hagar didn’t see it until now. And this is where the Midrash starts.
“Amar R’ Binyamin,” Says Rabbi Binyamin, “Hakol b’chezkas sumin,” everyone is categorized as blind, “ad SheHaKadosh Baruch Hu mai’ir es aineihem,” until the Holy One Blessed be He lightens up their eyes.”
The understanding is that things may be right in front of our noses, but if Hashem doesn’t let us see them, we won’t.
Reciting this Midrash has become a segula, an auspicious practice, for finding lost items.
As my friend Eliyahu told me when we were 14, “You say the Midrash three times, and then you duck.” Duck? Why duck? “’Cuz if you don’t,” he said with a chuckle, “it might hit you in the head!”
I have had many occasions to use this phrase and it works. Try it out and you’ll see that when you leave your vision to G-d, He opens yours eyes.
