Leah’s Thanksgiving: Finding Blessing in Brokenness

This year, expressing gratitude feels more challenging than ever. In a time of uncertainty and fragility – when even ceasefires create new anxieties – it’s natural to wonder how we can feel thankful when so much remains unresolved. Yet the Torah offers a profound and deeply human lesson on the nature of hodaah – gratitude – through the story of Leah and the naming of her son Yehuda.

The name Yehuda, rooted in hodah (“to thank”), is often linked to the Jewish value of thanksgiving. But why does Leah only offer gratitude now? Before Yehuda’s birth, Leah’s children’s names reflected her ongoing struggle for her husband Yaakov’s love: Reuven (“God has seen my misery”), Shimon (“God heard I am unloved”), and Levi (“Now my husband will become attached to me”). These names capture her pain and longing. With Yehuda, however, something shifts. Suddenly, she names her son in gratitude to God without reference to her personal struggles. Why now?

According to Rashi and others, this moment marks a significant change in Leah’s life. According to this group of commentators, by the time of Yehuda’s birth, Leah had actually acquired Yaakov’s love. Her earlier sons’ names reflect her efforts to secure his affection, and with each child, she inched closer to that goal. By the time Yehuda was born, she felt that she had finally received both her husband’s love and more than her fair share of the shevatim (tribes), prompting her to express gratitude to God.

This interpretation sees Leah’s gratitude as the natural culmination of her journey – the moment when her struggles were resolved, and she could fully appreciate the blessings she had received.

But this isn’t the only way to read Leah’s story. Rabbi Yosef Ibn Kaspi offers a radically different understanding. He suggests that Leah never actually gained Yaakov’s love. Leah’s circumstances didn’t change; it was her perspective that changed. Once Leah accepted that she couldn’t control her husband’s feelings, she stopped measuring her worth by what she lacked and began to focus on what she had. In that acceptance, she found the space to recognize her blessings, express gratitude to God, and find a measure of happiness.

This reframing of gratitude is so resonant. We live in a world filled with unresolved struggles and unfulfilled hopes. So many areas of life feel incomplete. Gratitude often feels out of reach when we’re surrounded by brokenness, and we hesitate to give thanks because it feels insincere or insufficient.

But Leah’s story reminds us that gratitude doesn’t require perfection. It invites us to acknowledge what is good even when life doesn’t meet all our expectations. Like Leah, we can hold together joy and immense disappointment – recognizing the blessings that endure, even in the midst of what remains unresolved.

This lesson feels especially urgent on Thanksgiving. Gratitude is not the absence of struggle; it’s the presence of perspective. When we learn to accept the limitations we face and turn our focus to what we do have, we too can find moments of light and strength.

Perhaps this year, we can take Leah’s example to heart. As we gather around our tables, may we find the strength to name the blessings we see – no matter how small or fleeting – and hold onto them. Like Leah, may we find a way to give thanks, even in the midst of so much pain and imperfection.