Many presume that the first sin of the creation story was when Adam and Chava defied the instructions of Hashem by eating from the eitz hadaas. However, according to Chazal, already on the fourth day of creation the moon was punished for being petty and petulant. The Gemara (Chullin 60b) infers from the inconsistent language of the pasuk "And Hashem made the two great lights, the great light to rule the day and the lesser light to rule the night" (Breishis 1:16), that when Hashem first created the sun and the moon, they were both "great" lights identical in size. Then, the moon complained before Hashem, "Master of the Universe, is it possible for two kings to serve with one crown? One of us must be subservient to the other." Hashem therefore said to the moon: "If so, go and diminish yourself," at which point the moon became the "lesser" of the two lights. But even before that, on the second day of creation, Rashi writes that Hashem commanded the trees to adopt the same flavor as the fruit they produced, becoming "fruit trees that bear fruit of its own kind" (Breishis 1:11). However, the trees rebelled and insisted on remaining inedible "trees that produce fruit" (Breishis 1:12).
Rav Moshe Shapiro (Mimamakim, Breishis Ma'amar 4) suggests that all three of these sins reflect the common desire to be independent. The trees pined for their own identity and flavor untethered and distinct from that of their fruit. The moon craved to be the source of its own light instead of merely reflecting the illumination of the sun. And Adam and Chava were tempted by the possibility of becoming gods themselves, "who know good and evil" (Breishis 3:5). While the ambition to be self-sufficient and autonomous is generally a good virtue as the pasuk states, "If you eat the toil of your hands, you are praiseworthy, and it is good for you" (Tehillim 128:2), with regards to our relationship with Hashem it is misguided. In this context, the greatest blessing is to be completely dependent and connected to Hashem. For this reason, despite the fact that the sun was more righteous than the moon the Jewish calendar revolves around the lunar cycle. Perhaps this signals that the mission of the Jewish people is not to aspire to become independent entities and beings, but to absorb and disseminate the light of Hashem.
In the aftermath of the sin of the eitz hadaas, the snake received the punishment, "you shall walk on your belly, and you shall eat dust all the days of your life" (Breishis 3:14). On the surface, the new predicament of the snake is a blessing for now he will have a continuous and endless supply of sustenance, as the Gemara (Yoma 75a) observes, "He cursed the serpent and what happened? When the serpent goes up to the roof its food is with it, and when it comes down its food is with it." Indeed, the Gemara (Berachos 57a) adds that "if one sees a snake in a dream, it is a sign that his livelihood is accessible to him just as dust is readily accessible to a snake." What then is the nature of the snake's punishment? Rav Simcha Bunim of Peshischa (Matzmiach Yeshuos pg. 26a) explains that by providing the snake with a constant source of sustenance Hashem was effectively cutting ties with the snake. Moving forward, the snake would have no reason to interact with Hashem for he lacks and wants for nothing. On the other hand, in the wake of the sin of the eitz hada'as Hashem sought to create a more intense bond with Adam by "cursing" him that "with the sweat of his brow he shall eat bread" (Breishis 3:19). This was not intended to sever the connection with Adam but to strengthen it. The challenges of earning a living would make Adam acutely and continuously aware of Hashem's involvement in his life and activities. In this sense, Adam's fate was not really a curse but rather a blessing, the blessing of dependency on Hashem.
In Parshas Chukas, the Jewish people complained to Moshe about the inadequacies of the manna when they said, "There is no bread and no water, and we have come to loathe this miserable food" (Bamidbar 21:5). Hashem punished their ungrateful whining by attacking them with snakes as the pasuk states, "Hashem sent snakes against the people. They bit the people and many of them died" (Bamidbar 21:6). Rashi explains that they deserved to be bitten by snakes since by speaking negatively about the manna they were modeling the behavior of the snake who spoke lashon hara about Hashem when he said, "For Hashem knows that on the day that you eat thereof, your eyes will be opened, and you will be like Gods, knowing good and evil" (Breishis 3:5). However, Rabbeinu Bachya argues that the Jewish people did not malign the quality of the manna itself, rather they were opposed to the nuisance of collecting it daily, instead, they requested that an annual supply be delivered once a year. According to the perspective that the Jewish did not speak lashon hara about the manna, we must wonder why they were punished specifically with snakes?
The Gemara (Yoma 76a) relates, that the students of Rabbi Shimon ben Yochai asked him: why didn't the manna fall for the Jewish people just once a year to take care of all their needs, instead of coming down every day? He responded with a parable: To what does this matter compare? To a king of flesh and blood who has only one son. He granted him an allowance for food once a year and the son greeted his father only once a year, when it was time for him to receive his allowance. So, he arose and granted him his food every day, and his son visited him every day. So too, in the case of the Jewish people, the manna that fell each day was sufficient only for that day, so that the Jewish people would daven to Hashem for food on a daily basis. In light of this Gemara, Rav Pinchas Friedman (Shvilei Pinchas, Chukas 5781) suggests that when the Jewish people complained about the schedule of the manna they we stricken specifically with snakes, because by lobbying for more infrequent interactions with Hashem they were longing for the lifestyle of the snake whose relationship with Hashem has been completely severed by his constant supply of sustenance. The plague of the snakes was intended to teach the Jewish people to cherish their daily exchanges with Hashem instead of resenting them.
We all daven that Hashem grant us an abundance of blessing and parnassah, but we also must never lose sight of the greatest gift of all which is a deep and meaningful relationship with Hashem. Yitzchok blessed Yaakov "And may Hashem give you of the dew of the heavens and of the fatness of the earth and an abundance of grain and wine" (Breishis 27:28). The Medrash (66:3) comments "may Hashem give you and give you again." Why does the blessing include multiple installments? Wouldn't it be better to receive the entire sum all at once? The Sfas Emes (Parshas Toldos 5650) explains that the best blessing is not a one-time lump sum payment of parnassah, but a daily ongoing relationship with Hashem.