The Mid­night Mitz­vah presents a sit­u­a­tion in which two mitzvot are in con­flict. Han­i­na Chip­munk, a wood­land ani­mal with human qual­i­ties, knows that giv­ing tzedakah to those who need it is demand­ed by Jew­ish law. But when she ful­fills this oblig­a­tion by gath­er­ing nuts for Mathil­da Squir­rel, Mathil­da gets angry. Less phys­i­cal­ly strong than she used to be, Mathil­da rejects Hanina’s good deed, and even dimin­ish­es Han­i­na by remind­ing her that ​“I was gath­er­ing nuts before you were born.” This sto­ry draws on the Jerusalem Tal­mud, which explains that caus­ing some­one embar­rass­ment is for­bid­den, and must be avoid­ed even when pro­vid­ing essen­tial help. Han­i­na has good inten­tions, and her con­fu­sion is jus­ti­fied. Why would a frail, old­er squir­rel reject her help? But by the end of the sto­ry, Han­i­na learns that sen­si­tiv­i­ty to Mathilda’s frus­tra­tion is just as impor­tant as offer­ing food.

Ten­sion builds as Han­i­na under­takes her jour­ney. She will accom­plish a spe­cif­ic deed, and a wise being will teach her a valu­able truth in the process. In the orig­i­nal Tal­mu­dic pas­sage, Rab­bi Han­i­na Bar Pap­pa dis­trib­utes char­i­ty under cov­er of dark­ness, even though Jew­ish folk­lore has warned of the dan­ger­ous demons who trav­el by night. Here, Rab­bi Hanina’s name­sake is con­front­ed not by a demon, but by an owl who presents him­self in a threat­en­ing way. Once Han­i­na answers his fright­en­ing ques­tions, she is able to move forward.

Ruth Horowitz’s text dis­tills fun­da­men­tal Jew­ish laws in an acces­si­ble way, with­out con­de­scen­sion. Jen­ny Meilihove’s gouache and pen­cil draw­ings are per­fect­ly dra­mat­ic, depict­ing the obsta­cles to Hanina’s quest. Like the very best children’s books, The Mid­night Mitz­vah will teach read­ers impor­tant val­ues and demon­strate how to learn and change course.