“And Miriam was shut out from the camp for seven days: and the people did not journey until Miriam was brought in again.” (Bamidbar 12:15)

In our everyday experiences, we encounter a mix of positive and negative events. Many of us reflect on these occurrences, trying to determine if Hashem has been pleased with our actions. Certain moments often stand out, shaping our sense of Hashem’s view of us. Yet, we rarely consider what happened yesterday, last year, or even a decade ago.

When Moshe was an infant, his sister Miriam watched over him when he was placed in the river. She arranged for their mother, Yocheved, to serve as his wetnurse, a role Chazal highlight as crucial to Moshe’s spiritual development. However, there is no mention of Miriam receiving a reward or special recognition for this act—she was simply fulfilling her role as a devoted big sister.

However, in this week’s parsha, after Miriam speaks lashon hara about her brother and is sent outside the camp, Klal Yisrael waits for her return before travelling onward. Chazal note that this was her reward for watching over her brother, Moshe Rabbeinu, when he was an infant.

The obvious question is why Miriam received her reward so much later, roughly 80 years after the event. Everyone’s situation in the world had changed significantly since then.

To address this question, I’ll share an insight I heard from my father. Chazal state, “Whoever says Reuven sinned is mistaken” (Shabbos 55b). This can be understood to mean that Reuven didn’t sin deliberately; rather, he made a miscalculation that led to a sinful act. However, this error did not define him as a sinner, rather as a righteous person who simply made a one-time mistake. This shows that not every action reflects a person’s true character or moral standing; sometimes, it’s just an isolated misstep.

Miriam, the prophetess, did not intend to disparage her brother Moshe or undermine his authority when she questioned his conduct. To highlight her true character, the Torah chooses this moment—80 years after she protected infant Moshe from harm—to show her deep love and devotion to him. The Torah is teaching us that this is the real Miriam: the caring sister who safeguarded her brother, not the one who spoke lashon hara about Moshe Rabbeinu.

Often, when we perform a mitzvah, we may think, “Since I did this mitzvah, I must be a tzadik.” Conversely, when we sin, we might conclude, “Since I sinned, I must be a rasha.” While some actions may significantly shift our moral standing, most are isolated incidents that don’t define us. Even when we sin, we should view it as separate from our true character. But when we do a mitzvah, we should affirm, “This is who I truly am.” By embracing this perspective, we’re likely to improve our standing in Hashem’s eyes, who will see us as tzaddikim who occasionally falter, not as inherently bad people. More importantly, this mindset helps us recognize our own growth in serving Hashem.