As the Torah introduces us to Lavan’s two daughters, Leah is introduced by the phrase, “ועיני לאה רכות,” “Leah had soft eyes” (BeReishit 29:17). This is a rather specific and peculiar physical description; of course, as Bartneura points out, the way of the Torah is to describe the Tzaddikim of the Torah with praise and not disgrace, and the Imahot were no exception. But why does the Torah specifically give details of Leah’s eyes? Why are these adjectives used in the illustration? 

Rashi quotes a Midrash that Leah's eyes were weak from weeping, as she had heard everyone say, “Rivka has two sons to correspond to Lavan’s two daughters — the elder daughter for the elder son, the younger daughter for the younger son.” The thought of her having to marry Esav caused her great distress, and as a result, she was found sobbing, her eyes soft with tears. 

The Ba’al HaTurim makes a fascinating connection, referring to a similar description of optics later on in Sefer BeReishit, citing Ya'akov in Parashat VaYechi as being described as being “dim with age” (BeReishit 48:10). There is a Pasuk in Iyov which says that “the eyes of the wicked pine away” (Iyov 11:20), and the Ba’al HaTurim says this is true in both instances in BeReishit: Leah was worried about marrying Esav in the future, and Ya'akov’s eyes were heavy because he saw that both Yeravam and Achav would descend from him. 

In a Gemara in Bava Batra 123a, Rav Elazar says that the word רכות is really ארכות, and is alluding to the fact that Leah's gifts given to her descendants (the Kehunah and the monarchy), were long-lasting, as they were passed down from generation to generation. However, Rav contests this answer and provides Rashi's explanation with an additional comment. He recounts how after Leah found out about the prophesied bond between the daughters of Lavan and the sons of Rivkah, she would sit at the crossroads and ask passersby what the deeds of the older and younger son were. Upon being told that the older son was an evil man who robbed others while the younger son was a quiet man who dwelled in tents, she became so distraught at the prospect of marrying the older brother that she tearfully prayed for mercy from Hashem. Although Leah ended up marrying Ya'akov, her eyelashes fell out from all of her tears, making her appear “weak-eyed.” 

Even though Leah’s appearance did not compare to Rachel’s, her response to such disheartening news enabled her to change her fate and show the power of prayer. In fact, according to Rav Huna, Leah's Tefillah was so strong that it not only annulled the decree that she would marry Eisav, but even allowed her to precede Rachel in marrying Ya'akov. Moreover, this story teaches that people cannot simply be judged from a physical perspective at face value, as everyone has their own complexities and nuances under the surface.

In his book Talking to Strangers, Malcolm Gladwell discusses the cognitive bias of the “illusion of asymmetric insight," which is the conviction that we know others better than they know us. We believe that we may have insights about other people that they lack, but not vice versa, and that leads us to “talk when we would do well to listen and to be less patient than we ought to be when others express the conviction that they are the ones who are being misunderstood or judged unfairly.” Perhaps this is the case with Leah, who was characterized by the physical toll of her tears to HaKadosh Baruch Hu, rather than the spiritual impact that her Tefillot had. Hopefully, we can avoid being shallow and superficial by focusing more on the values and principles of others rather than their features and profiles. As we learn from Leah, appearance is not the entire story; sometimes, there is more than meets the eye.