Animals are God’s creatures too, and He wants us to make sure to treat them right. This week’s portion tells us some of the ways we should be kind to animals, even caring for their feelings by letting a calf stay with its mother after it’s born. The Torah is full of guidelines on how to be sensitive and caring to every one of God’s creatures, whether they fly, swim, walk on two feet or four.

In our story, a kid gets a taste of farm living, and learns a lesson in kindness at the same time.

Eye-Opener

It was still dark out when a tug on my arm brought me out of my nice deep sleep. “Good morning Barry, time to wake up!”

Time to wake up? Was this some kind of joke or just a bad dream? They say you can take the boy out of the city, but you can’t take the city out of the boy, and it’s really true. When I made plans to spend spring break with my cousins on my uncle’s farm, I thought it would be a good change of scenery and a chance for some fresh air—you know, like a vacation in the country. I had no idea that getting up every day before dawn was going to be part of the deal!

Now on my very first morning there, as my cousin Jonnie tried to wake me up, I did what any self-respecting city boy would do—I pulled the blanket over my head, and pretended not to hear him.

But I guess stubbornness runs in the family, because the kid didn’t give up. He playfully tugged on my blanket, and said in a voice way too cheerful for that hour, “C’mon cousin, soon the sun will be out, and the animals are waiting.”

They may be waiting—but I was sleeping. I held on tight. But my skinny arms were no match for my muscle-bound cousin, who had been spending his time lifting a hoe and a pitchfork while my idea of exercise was carrying home an extra-large pie from the local pizza shop.

I saw this was going to be a losing battle. “OK Jonnie, you win.”

I pulled myself out of bed, dressed, and the two of us went out into the field. I looked around and took a deep breath. I had to admit it was beautiful. I’d seen a few sunsets in my time, but a sunrise was a whole new experience.

We started our chores and after a while Jonnie called out, “OK, breakfast time!”

Great! You wouldn’t know it, but there’s a lot to do to run a farm, and by the time we finished our early morning routine of chopping, carrying and fixing, I was as hungry as a horse. I could smell my Aunt Becky’s homemade blueberry muffins wafting out of the farmhouse kitchen and my mouth began to water.

I started heading toward the house, when my cousin called me back. “Hey, where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

“I’m going to eat. Didn’t you say it was breakfast time?”

My cousin laughed. “Yeah, but I meant it’s breakfast time for the animals. We have to throw corn to the chickens and turkeys and bring hay for the cows. Then we can eat.”

Maybe the kid had gotten too much fresh air or something, because I think he was confused. “Wait a minute, haven’t you got things backwards? Aren’t we the people around here? Aren’t we supposed to be the ones who eat first? I’m starving, and we’ve been working all morning while the cows have been sleeping. I’m sure Bossy won’t mind waiting for us to grab a quick breakfast first.”

I thought my logic was perfect, but my cousin shook his head. “No way. The Torah teaches that we have to be kind to animals. We’re not allowed to hunt them for sport, we can’t muzzle farm animals when they’re working so they can nibble food along the way, and we can’t even make two kinds of animals who don’t get along with each other work together.”

That was interesting. I like animals too, and wouldn’t want to hurt them, but still, what did that have to do with my breakfast?

Jonnie saw my quizzical look and explained. “The Torah even tells us that we have to care so much about our animals, that we have to feed them breakfast before we even feed ourselves. They depend on us, you know.”

Wow, that really was caring! Well, we fed the animals, and maybe I was imagining it, but they really did seem grateful for the breakfast. And you know what? I think even my breakfast tasted better, as I knew there weren’t any hungry cows out there waiting for me to chow down. That early morning I learned a lot about being on a farm, and a lot about being a Jew. You could really say that thanks to Jonnie, my eyes got opened in more ways than one.

Nesanel Yoel Safran is a writer, chef, and a teacher/student of Jewish spirituality. He blends these assorted vocations on his blog, “Soul Foodie,” where you can join him on mystical cooking adventures and glean practical wisdom for the kitchen—and for living. https://soulfoodiecom.wordpress.com/