Parshas Vayeitzai- The Eyes of a Sister

ואחר ילדה בת ותקרא את שמה דינה

And afterwards she gave birth to a daughter and she called her Dina.

Rashi famously explains the name Dina: Leah was dan herself. She took stock of the situation. With only twelve shevatim destined to emerge, if this unborn child would be a seventh son of hers, that would leave Rochel with only one — fewer than even the two sons granted to each of the maidservants. Leah therefore davened that the child should be a girl, sparing her sister any humiliation.

Still, the choice of name seems puzzling. If the essence of Leah’s greatness is that she was mevater, willingly giving up the zechus of another shevet out of sensitivity to her sister — why not call her Vitra, expressing that self-sacrifice? That was the real nisayon: relinquishing the possibility of another shevet bearing her name.

R’ Yaakov Nekritz explains that Leah, in fact, captured the most profound point with the name Dina. Human nature is that when we see someone in distress, we instinctively offer help. All the more so when it is a sister’s honor at stake — a sister who had once given up the simanim at her own wedding to spare Leah embarrassment. Of course Leah would be mevater. The refusal to take that extra shevet was almost obvious.

What was extraordinary — what defined her gadlus — is that Leah judged herself. She placed herself inside Rochel’s world. She imagined the shame, felt the pain, and made the cheshbon as if she were Rochel: “If I have another son, where will that leave her?” That inner din, that ability to shift perspectives and genuinely stand in another’s place, is what made the tefillah natural and almost inevitable.

Rav Nissan Kaplan explained this with a mashal. When a father comes to visit his sons, each one naturally wants the father to stay with him. Hearing that Tatty is staying by the other brother can genuinely hurt. Yet if one pauses and places himself in his brother’s matzav — realizing that the brother is going through a difficult period and could truly benefit from having the father close — the sting disappears. Once you stand in the other’s shoes, doing the right thing becomes simple; the real challenge is the inner shift, not the outward act.

This, too, was Leah’s greatness. She stepped into Rochel’s reality, understood her pain, and from there the rest flowed. The name Dina reflects that inner judgment — the ability to see through another’s eyes — which ultimately led her to daven that the child be a daughter, preserving Rochel’s honor.

Reflecting further on this middah, we can now turn to Rochel. She, too, displayed a life of extraordinary self-sacrifice. Rochel went above and beyond for Leah, giving her the secret simanim of marriage so as not to embarrass her. But why did Leah comply with Lavan’s scheme, effectively causing Rochel to lose Yaakov?

One explanation is that Leah, through nevuah, knew she was destined to be one of the Imahos. She had davened for Yaakov’s protection and trusted that Hashem’s plan would unfold correctly. She understood that Hashem would care for Rochel as well and accepted the situation without question.

Another approach — not based on the Midrash — is that Leah may have been unaware of the entire scheme. Yaakov had arranged to marry Rochel, but Lavan intervened. Rochel, realizing that Lavan would swap the kallah and that Leah could be embarrassed, gave Leah the identifying signs. For seven years Yaakov worked for Rochel — years that felt to him like only a few days — sending gifts and tokens along the way. Rochel discreetly handed these to Leah, saying each time, “Your chassan sent this for you.” Only at the end did she give Leah the signs, explaining that Yaakov wanted to confirm it was truly Leah and not a mistake, and Leah may never have realized that Rochel was making a sacrifice.

This also clarifies Leah’s reaction to the duda’im: “Is it not enough that you took my husband, and now you also want my flowers?” How could she protest? Rochel had ceded everything to protect her; of course, if Leah had been unaware of Rochel’s selflessness, her reaction is understandable.

The Gemara in Kesubos (33b) states: אמר רב: אילמלי נוגדו לחנניה, מישאל ועזריה — פלחו לצלמא — had Chananyah, Mishael, and Azarya been beaten instead of cast into the furnace, they would have succumbed and worshiped the image. It is far harder to live a life al Kiddush Hashem than to die al Kiddush Hashem. Rochel exemplified this principle: for seven years, she lived with extraordinary dedication, giving up her intended husband indefinitely to protect Leah from embarrassment. Hers was not a momentary act; but rather a daily practice of thinking of how Leah would be hurt if the truth emerged.

Leah and Rochel together teach us something profound. Their middos were not occasional flashes of greatness — they were lived realities. The capacity to see through another’s eyes, to act with sensitivity and self-sacrifice, to live a higher life consistently — this is the DNA of our Imahos. מעשה אבות סימן לבנים- we have it within ourselves to live this way as well!

Good Shabbos, מרדכי אפפעל