In a distant kingdom, the king's son fell gravely ill. Despite the efforts of the kingdom’s finest physicians, the prince’s condition worsened with each passing day. Desperate, the king issued a royal proclamation: anyone who could cure his son would be granted royal recognition.
A little-known doctor from a small village heard the announcement. He was, at first, too intimidated to respond. Who was he, after all? A nobody, compared to the finest physicians in the kingdom.But as the days passed and the prince’s condition deteriorated, the doctor’s conscience began to stir. Someone had to act. Gathering his courage, he made his way to the palace.
Upon examining the prince, the doctor quickly identified the problem. A common herb—a humble weed, really—had the power to cure the prince. But there was a catch. The great physicians, should they hear of this simple solution, would laugh him out of the palace. They had tried exotic medicines, rare plants from the farthest reaches of the earth, and none had worked. Could it really be that this simple herb, a weed from the local fields, would save the young prince?
So, the doctor devised a clever strategy. “I’ve found the cure for the prince,” he announced. “But it requires a precise method of preparation. The medicine comes from a common plant, but it requires a skilled hand to extract its essence and apply the proper dosage. I recommend the king find a physician with the requisite expertise to prepare it.”
Naturally, the royal doctors—who had failed miserably—were thrilled. Each one secretly hoped he would be the one selected to prepare the treatment and heal the boy. After all, a successful remedy would secure both the king's gratitude and a royal reward.
Outsmarting Pharoah's Advisers
And then there’s the curious detail that Joseph’s words “found favor in the eyes of Pharaoh and the eyes of his servants.” Was Pharaoh’s approval not enough? Why the need for his servants’ approval as well? Surely Pharaoh’s decision alone would have sufficed!
The answer lies in basic human psychology.
Joseph understood his situation well. If he simply presented his interpretation of Pharaoh’s dream, the royal advisers would scoff. These were the finest, most highly regarded experts in Egypt—and yet, they had failed. Joseph, an outsider and a prisoner, would be mocked mercilessly.
So, Joseph, ever the strategist, made a suggestion that would capture the entire royal court’s attention. After interpreting the dream, he proposed that Pharaoh appoint an administrator to oversee the storage of food during the coming years of plenty. Why? Because now every adviser, eager to advance in Pharaoh’s court, secretly hoped they would be chosen for that prestigious role. Each one thought, Maybe I’ll be the one to oversee this monumental project.
In this way, Joseph’s words “found favor in the eyes of Pharaoh”—and just as importantly—“in the eyes of his servants.” Everyone now had a stake in Joseph’s success. A masterstroke, really.