The art of mining marshmallows, spaghetti, or rocks

A few years ago, I came across a story that has stuck with me ever since. It’s about a design challenge called “The Spaghetti Problem” shared by Rabbi Naphtali Lavenda of Yeshiva University, quoting Megan McArdle’s The Up Side of Down.

The setup was simple: groups of adults – engineers, lawyers, Master of Business Administration students – were given spaghetti, tape, string, and a marshmallow. Their task? Build the tallest freestanding structure that could support the marshmallow.

The twist? The group that outperformed them all wasn’t a team of experts, it was a bunch of kids in kindergarten.

How could five-year-olds beat engineers? It turns out they weren’t afraid to fail. They didn’t waste time debating or strategising. They just built, knocked things down, and rebuilt again. And when they needed more spaghetti, they asked for it. They weren’t limited by what was in front of them, they saw possibility.

As we live through parshat Eikev this week, the Torah describes eretz Yisrael as “a good land”, listing its abundant water sources and the seven species. But then it adds something curious: “A land whose stones are iron and from whose mountains you will mine copper.” At first glance, rocks and metal seem out of place in a list of blessings. What kind of nourishment do stones offer?

To the untrained eye, rocks are obstacles. But to a geologist or a geo-physicist, they are a potential treasure – after all, iron and copper don’t grow on trees. The verse that follows, “You will eat and be satisfied, and bless Hashem for the good land He has given you,” suggests that even the rocky parts of life are part of the blessing.

Sometimes, we’re handed spaghetti and a marshmallow and told to build something meaningful. And sometimes, we’re handed rocks. If we learn to see beyond the surface presentation, to ask for more spaghetti, to mine the copper hidden in the mountain, we may discover that even the hard things carry divine potential.

Let’s remember to bless Hashem not just for the sweet fruits, but also for the stones. Because in those stones, too, lies the promise of a good land.

Our minds and hearts remain with our brothers and sisters in Israel, especially the hostages and their families, still waiting, still hoping. Their pain is the part of the rocky terrain we read about, the kind that seems impossible to navigate. But even there, we must believe that iron and copper can be mined, that strength, unity, and redemption can emerge from the hardest places.

May we soon merit to see the day when all the captives are released and returned; when the land yields its goodness in peace; and when we can truly bless Hashem for the full promise of an eretz tova.