Returning What Is Lost

When something is lost, the Torah commands us to return it: hashavas aveidah. But this mitzvah depends on a variety of factors. The most basic factor is whether the object has simanim — identifying features. If an object has no way to identify its uniqueness such that its Owner can identify it, the mitzvah of hashavas aveidah does not apply. But if it has simanim, something unique that allows it to be identified by its owner, the Torah obligates us to facilitate its return.

On Rosh Hashanah night, we have the minhag of “simanim.” Looking at all the objects around us and identifying the distinct features that tie them to Hashem. We take an apple, a pomegranate, a carrot, a fish – and we’re not just making symbolic wishes for blessing. We’re holding each item and saying: “This apple carries a siman that it belongs to Hashem because it carries Hashem’s desire for us to have sweetness. This pomegranate bears the mark of its Creator because it is filled with seeds, just like the way Hashem sees each of us filled with mitzvos. This fish, this carrot, this date — they’re all stamped with where they came from and what they are for.”

We do this on Rosh Hashanah because, over the course of the year, we often drift away from Hashem. We become Hashem’s “lost objects.” And along with us, come the apples we eat, the cars we drive, the houses we live in, the money we make, etc. The world becomes Hashem’s lost objects. But Hashem gave us a gift: teshuva. Return. We can return ourselves to Hashem, and we can return the entire world along with us. On Rosh Hashanah, we are performing the mitzvah of hashavas aveidah on the grandest level. We are returning the entire cosmos and all its particular details to its Owner: every blade of grass, every article of clothing, and every part of ourselves.

So, on Rosh Hashanah night, we look at the world and say: we may have forgotten that this apple is Hashem’s, but tonight, we remember that it still bears His siman. We announce with firm conviction that these simanim are never completely erased. They are always there, no matter how far away we may have accidentally taken them. Perhaps this is also why there is the seemingly silly, but perhaps actually profound, ‘minhag’ to make up new simanim about everything and anything. Look at the chicken you’re eating and find a way to trace it to its owner. Look at the soda you’re drinking and find a hint to Hashem. “לד’ הארץ ומלואה” – The world and all that fills it, is Hashem’s.

But there’s an even deeper point that this reflection on simanim brings out. Because the truth is that simanim are not enough to obligate hashavas aveidah. Even if an object has a siman, the finder is only obligated in hashavas aveidah if the owner is expecting to retrieve the object. If, however, the owner is misya’eish — they despair of ever getting their object back — then the finder doesn’t return it.

So, why are we returning all the lost items of the world to Hashem? Because we know and believe that He has not given up on us. Every time we say the yehi ratzon and declare the siman of Hashem that is imprinted on the leek or beets, we are saying: “Ribbono Shel Olam, Master of the world, we know we’ve strayed and we know we’ve let Your world feel distant, but we also know that Your belief in us is endless and You haven’t been misya’eish on us. We believe in Your belief in us.”

This is the power of Rosh Hashanah. It’s not just us believing in Hashem; it’s believing that He still believes in us. It’s seeing the simanim everywhere — in every detail of existence — and knowing they haven’t faded. The apple still carries its mark. The grass, the clouds, the homes and cars and cities — they’re all stamped with His signature. And with all our might, we’re gathering them up and saying: “Hashem, This belongs to You. I belong to You. We’re bringing it all back home.”