A woman is not robust by nature; it is rather her enthusiasm and sense of duty that give her strength. In our society, enamored of the American dream, to be a wife and mother requires tremendous inner strength. The goals of a nice house and car are dominant, and the quest for money seems to have a life of its own. Not that these goals are unimportant, but the far greater goals of spirituality, integrity, knowledge, and family ties often fall by the wayside.

The renowned sociologist Robert K. Merton noted that in the United States, parents are deemed good “only if they somehow manage to allow their children to get financially ahead in life.” And so stay-at-home mothers do not get respect for the job they do. While mothers and wives quietly do the most difficult, most important task of all — in creating, building, and maintaining a family — athletes, actors, and musicians get the praise.

A study of high school seniors from the mid-1970’s through the early 1990’s found that male Americans were more likely to embrace material acquisition and competition, while females put a greater premium on helping others and having children. These days, when so many women work outside the home out of necessity, the entire family is impacted by the pressures of two jobs. The house has to mold itself around the job schedule, not vise versa. This becomes even more difficult when we talk about the Jewish home, where children’s homework is compounded by the dual curriculum.

Attempting to instill our children with a sense of what being a Jew means is often the job of the mother. Her family is bombarded by secularism and a preoccupation with money. We are continually subjected to intense stresses, including financial problems, illnesses, and family crises, and yet as the akeret habayit (foundation of the home) we hold it together, creating a positive atmosphere for our spouse and children. The responsibility of inspiring our young children with Yiddishkeit, a love of learning Torah, and love of G-d is an immense one.

After the redemption from slavery in Egypt, the men sang a song to G-d praising Him for their freedom. Then the women, led by Miriam, began their own song of praise. The song they sang was intense, as the exile had seen their husbands cruelly toiling and their infant sons murdered. Their experience of the bitterness of exile may have been even more wrenching than that of the men, yet the faith of the women had been stronger and more enduring and their song more victorious. The women believed they would be redeemed, and for this reason they brought musical instruments to the desert. Though their suffering was incomprehensible, they had endured.

Being an akeret habayit is a manifestation of quiet heroism. In a more obvious way, we need to recognize the heroism of those who live in Israel today. The idea of heroism takes a normal person and puts her in extraordinary circumstances, bringing out incredible reserves she never knew she had. Recently my sister, who lives in Samaria (on the West Bank), was shot at by a Palestinian sniper. These killers often aim at the babies in passing cars, plaguing the Jews living there. Thank G-d the bullet lodged in her car, missing her and the children. Yet when she got home, her only desire was to bathe her infant, say Shema with her, and put her safely into bed. All she wished was to fulfill her nurturing role as a mother, and by doing so she brought peace back into a crazy world. There is heroism in her living in Israel and there is heroism in quietly continuing to ignite the sparks of Judaism in her children.

Although not all of us merit to live in Israel and most of us do not live in dangerous areas, all Jewish homemakers are heroines, as parents of the next generation. This is what gives us peace and fulfillment. In their heroism, the women of today are joined with the heroes of past generations. Our Sages teach that the Israelites were redeemed from Egypt in the merit of the righteous women. So may it be with the final redemption.

— Sara Levy