In last week’s parsha, Parshas Beshalach, we read about the moment in the Exodus, Yetziat Mitzrayim, when the pressure reached its height and the splitting of the sea, Kriat Yam Suf took place. Bnei Yisrael were trapped, frightened, and unsure how they could possibly move forward, until the way opened in a manner no one could have anticipated.
When we lived in England, the special fruit for Tu Bishvat was what was known in Yiddish as 'bukser'-the dry carob fruit sent from Eretz Yisrael especially for the holiday. It required no refrigeration or special care. With time it dried out even more, but when soaked in water it softened again and became sweet and chewy. That was the Tu Bishvat fruit we waited for.
Even when fruits from all over the world were readily available, the fruit from Eretz Yisrael-even a simple fruit usually eaten by animals-was the most important to us. Not because of its taste, but because of what it represented. Connection. Roots. Belonging. Even something simple from Eretz Yisrael mattered more than something refined from elsewhere.
Tu Bishvat reminds us that fruit is not only something we eat. It is something we learn from.
At this time of year, trees do not look impressive. They appear dry, bare, and lifeless. And yet this is precisely when the sap begins to rise. Long before leaves appear and long before fruit develops, the process has already begun. Growth takes place quietly, beneath the surface.
This same idea appears later in the parasha. After Kriat Yam Suf, Bnei Yisrael arrive at Marah and discover that the water is bitter and undrinkable. HaKadosh Baruch Hu instructs Moshe to throw a tree into the water, and the water becomes fit to drink:
“Moshe cast the tree into the water, and the water became sweet" (Shemos 15:23).
The tree at Marah was not merely a technical solution. It was a message. Just as a tree grows slowly and without fanfare, bitterness does not mean the end. What looks unlivable can change. What feels stuck can move forward.
This message speaks directly to the time we are living in. These are not abstract difficulties. We are living through real pain, real loss, and real uncertainty. The strain is felt in homes, in communities, and across Klal Yisrael. Each day brings new challenges, and it is natural to feel weighed down by what we see and hear.
Tu Bishvat asks us to look at things differently. Not seeing change does not mean nothing is happening. Not seeing results does not mean the process has stopped. Like the sap in the tree, movement can be taking place long before anything becomes visible.
As the Navi says:
נֵצַח יִשְׂרָאֵל לֹא יְשַׁקֵּר -Netzach Yisrael lo yeshaker - “The eternity of Israel will not disappoint us" (I Shmuel 15:29)
We may not understand the plan, and we may not yet see where things are leading. But that does not mean there is no direction.
Tu Bishvat is not just a day when we eat fruit. It is a day that teaches us how to look at life-with patience, steadiness, and perspective. Even when everything looks frozen or bitter, the sap may already be rising.
Rabbi Eliezer Simcha Weisz is a member of the Israeli Chief Rabbinate Council.