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A small moment stopped me cold. I noticed a well-known figure wearing what looked like expensive designer glasses. I commented on them. He smiled and said, “Three dollars.”
It hit me—what we see is often wrong.
Klal Yisrael in Mitzrayim looked broken, abandoned. But Az Yashir wasn’t just gratitude for the sea—it was clarity. Suddenly, Moshe saw that every moment of darkness had purpose.
We don’t get that clarity right away. We just daven that when it’s over, we’ll be able to say: Now I understand.
By Don Jarashow5
1515 ratings
A small moment stopped me cold. I noticed a well-known figure wearing what looked like expensive designer glasses. I commented on them. He smiled and said, “Three dollars.”
It hit me—what we see is often wrong.
Klal Yisrael in Mitzrayim looked broken, abandoned. But Az Yashir wasn’t just gratitude for the sea—it was clarity. Suddenly, Moshe saw that every moment of darkness had purpose.
We don’t get that clarity right away. We just daven that when it’s over, we’ll be able to say: Now I understand.

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