Each protagonist meets a doom befitting his actions.
As I was reading through a particular scene, however, I looked at it with new eyes. If we say Yisro was a refugee, someone fleeing Pharoah's justice, it makes sense that Moshe would end up with him. Moshe would need a guide, a mentor, someone to show him the way. In this understanding, it is Yisro who mentors Moshe, who teaches him about monotheism and God, and in effect, who both heals him and prepares him for his encounter with God at the Burning Bush.
But it's the scene after Moshe saving Yisro's daughters that really intrigues me. Here's how the dialogue goes:
It occurred to me that perhaps the women stress Moshe's identity because they know their father is a refugee. "An Egyptian saved us from the shepherds," they say, and their tone is one of wonder. But perhaps it is also one of concern. This is unlike the habits of the Egypt their father knows, the Pharaoh who enslaves rather than frees, who cares little for justice. Perhaps this Egyptian is here seeking their father- perhaps this kindness is a clever facade. For all they know, this man is an assassin, come to deliver the king's justice.
But it is Yisro who teaches them that fear ought not to hold one back. He is surprised by their concern, chagrined that they would allow the man's nationality to blind them from his actions. Yisro assumes the best, believes the man to be authentic, not a dissembler. He rebukes his daughters, asking them why they have not invited the man home, and telling them to return to find the man and bring him so that he may eat. Despite having been wronged by Egyptians (or by Pharoah himself), despite needing to flee in order to survive, Yisro does not paint everyone with one brush. There can be kind Egyptians. He does not allow his one experience to color everything else.
And so we ought to learn from Yisro, who perhaps took a risk. He decided to judge a man based on what he had done- his actions- not based on his birth or nationality. We can control what we do with our free will; we cannot control the color of our skin, the language of our birth or the blood that flows in our veins. It is our actions that make us who we are- and that is the lesson and legacy of Yisro.