We’re in our parenting class, Baruch Hashem (thank God). I read some interesting things for a college class I’m taking, and I wanted to share them because when I learn something that I find interesting and that could help me understand parenting a little better, I want to share it. We’ll discuss how we can apply it to our parenting. I hope you enjoy it. I thought it was interesting.
I was reading a book called Understanding Human Nature by Alfred Adler. Adler was one of the psychologists who branched off from Freud. He didn’t stay with Freud’s way of thinking; he developed his own philosophy of life and psychology. There were some things he discussed that I wanted to share.
He says that a child is born into the world in a very vulnerable and inferior position. A child is born extremely small, extremely weak, and extremely incapable of taking care of any of their needs. Hashem did that—which is not in the book—for a purpose. We think of it in practical terms: the chesed (kindness) to the mother that the child isn’t born much bigger than that. But Hashem could have made people be born in other ways. He created Adam HaRishon as an adult. If it had been His will that children should be born as adults, they could have been. Hopefully, not through the same manner of birth that we experience, but there could have been a different plan. Hashem chose that infants should be totally helpless, small, and dependent. That was His choice, and it had a purpose.
In the animal world, animals can become independent in a very short amount of time. If you see a little baby pony being born, within minutes it can get up and walk away. Our infants, God bless them, take an average of a year—and some, God bless them even more—to start stumbling and walking, as we call it, that first tidal walk. Animals can take care of themselves at a much younger age than human beings, whom Hashem created differently. So there is a purpose to the fact that Hashem created human beings to be so small, helpless, and vulnerable.
This psychologist, Alfred Adler, has a theory that made a lot of sense to me. He says that when a child is born, at a very young age, the child almost immediately realizes his helplessness and his inferiority to the world around him. He starts life with an inferiority complex. He is smaller than everyone, weaker than everyone, and totally dependent on everybody else. There is nothing he can do by himself. He is born and realizes that. His mind is there; his mind is thinking. He knows, “I can’t get up and get what I need. I’m dependent on everyone around me.” He has an inferiority complex, and that becomes his goal in life: to deal with this inferiority complex and become superior, to get over his inferiority complex.
The psychologist explains that this is not necessarily negative; it is actually meant to be positive. We’re born with a desire and a need to improve. We’re not born in a way that allows us to stay at that level. There is no staying at that level. You better improve. You can’t do anything by yourself; you have to improve. You are inferior to everything around you; you must improve. You must improve. So there is a drive to improve, a drive to become superior. That’s what we start out with in life.
Then, based on the way we are treated by the people around us, we form our own opinions of what life is. You have this baby being born with a total inferiority complex. He says, “Boy, am I in trouble. I can’t do anything by myself. I’m too small, too weak, and too inadequate for this world they just dropped me into.” Then he waits to see, and he is going to form opinions about himself and the world based on what we—the mothers, then his teachers, and then his peers—add to his personality. It becomes the person’s personality.
What happens to this child? Let’s say, for instance, the baby is born into a very warm, loving family. The baby cries, and someone picks him up, cuddles him, holds him close, and wraps him up. Now the baby says, “Oh, the world is a loving place. The world is a place where there’s affection and warmth.” He puts that into his definition of the world.
Whenever he cries, let’s say, he is responded to. He is picked up and fed; he’s not neglected. He says about himself, “I’m a valued person in this world. My needs are important to the important people around me. They care about me. I’m important.” He puts that on his list of who he is and what kind of a world he lives in. Be’ezrat Hashem (with God’s help).
The other scenario, lo aleinu (God forbid), is the neglected child in a terribly abusive home. There’s no love, no warmth. The child cries, and nobody comes. He needs something, even if it’s just warmth and love, and he doesn’t get it. He thinks to himself, “The world is a very strange and scary place. The world is a place where you’re on your own. Nobody wants to help you.” He puts that into his personality.
Then, finally, someone comes and picks him up. The person is tense and stiff and holds the child in a way that says, “You’re bothering me, kid.” The child senses it and thinks, “I’m not really wanted. I better adjust my personality so I won’t get in trouble.” Or he may adjust his personality in a way that will get him in trouble so that he gets more attention. He puts that into his box of thoughts, his box of personality.
There are all these different ways the infant starts figuring out the world: “The world is a safe place. The world is not a safe place. The world is a happy place. The world is not a happy place. I am loved. I am not loved. I am valued. I am not valued.” The child starts putting all of those things into his box. He figures out his world and forms an opinion about who he is and what the world is like at a very young age.
Then he is going to decide based on these opinions, which may be totally false or mistaken. He is not necessarily correct. If he assesses that the world is a very dangerous place and no one cares about him, he could be wrong. But he’ll still develop his personality based on that basic understanding of who he thinks he is and how he relates to the world around him. He has mistaken values, but he is going to base his next move on those values.
His goal is superiority. His goal is to be wanted, cared for, and protected. But based on what he believes about himself and the world, he is going to react. He might say, “The world is a very dangerous place, and nobody really wants me, so I’m going to be very laid-back and introverted. I’m not going to be a social type of person because I’m afraid of people. They may hurt me. They may not come through for me if I need them, so I’m going to stay away.” Or he may think, “If I don’t cry loud enough, if I don’t complain enough, no one’s going to take care of me. I’d better complain all my life about everything because I want to make sure I’m taken care of. They’re not going to take care of me otherwise.”
It puts a lot of responsibility on the parents, right? It gets us thinking, “Oh, my goodness, anything I do—if I’m in the shower and the baby cries and I don’t run out right away—it’s going to change his worldview, and I did it to him.” It’s really not so much like that. But the basics, the real things, I think are true. I think a child has a mind from the beginning of life. From the moment of birth, I think a child is thinking and really does develop a certain understanding of life. He can’t express it, but he feels it. He has it.
If we understand that the child is a thinking human being, forming opinions about life and himself from the minute he is born, then we will be more careful about how we respond to him. If we think nothing matters until he is a talking child, then we may waste the first few years by not relating to him the way we should have.
Based on what I’ve read in this book, what do we want to fill this child’s life with? This is Adler’s philosophy of psychology. What do I want to make sure of? Now, I want you to know that I find there are many sciences and many things in the secular world, in the realm of knowledge. We have to be careful about what we pick and what we don’t pick, because secular knowledge is secular and it’s not a Torah source. If it fits with Torah, I like it. If it doesn’t fit with Torah, I disregard it 100%, and I have no problem disregarding whatever they’ve proven a million times. If it goes against Torah, it means nothing to me.
Plus, if I read something secular, I understand that it can have truth to it, but it can’t have the complete truth. It cannot have the total truth. It could have a piece of the truth. You can’t say that this is the emet, complete truth. The only emet, complete truth, is Torah. The only complete understanding is Hashem. There is no complete truth. But there are bits and pieces of truth, and you can pick up bits and pieces of truth from other sources, as long as you understand that it’s not the complete truth and that anything that contradicts Torah is disregarded completely.
What fit nicely with what I already felt drew me in. What do I want to gain from what I just learned? What are the things we want to make this infant understand immediately, from birth? You tell me. What do we want him to know? That we love him; that he’s loved, safe, secure, valued, and important. He’s not just another one of the bunch. God bless the bunch, but he has to feel valued. Every child has to feel valued, important, cared for, and wanted. Wanted.
You know, I’m the fourth daughter. Was I wanted? I was wanted as a person. Did my mother want me to be a boy? Yes. Baruch Hashem, my mother had a boy after me, and all I keep hearing, even at my age, is that when she had my brother, she hit the jackpot. You know what that means about when she had me. I’m not a fool. If she had my brother and she hit the jackpot, then—okay, God bless my mother. I love her, and I don’t slight her for it. Everybody gets excited when they switch sexes, whichever one it is. If you have a bunch of boys, you go crazy over that first little girl. That’s normal. But we have to be careful about what message we’re giving our children, what message we’re giving the child.
A child like that—and I’m not saying this about myself, although it sounds like I am—might feel compelled to prove their value. They had that original feeling: “I wasn’t really what they wanted.” They may not feel valued as themselves. “I have to be valued as something else. I have to strive to do something to make myself valued.” If I can do it in a positive way, I’ll do it that way. If I don’t feel capable of doing it positively, maybe I should do it negatively. Somehow, I’m going to strive to fulfill that need for superiority and that feeling I got there.
We want our babies, God bless them, please Hashem, ken yirbu (may they increase), to feel loved. We do love them, Baruch Hashem. We are not bad, neglectful, abusive parents, God forbid. We are good parents, so first of all, we’re at a good point because we do love them. That’s going to come through. But even if I try to show them my love by holding them—nursing a baby is the most beautiful thing, and it’s something that I do. I miss it. I miss that. Nursing a baby is the most beautiful thing in the world. A mother holds a baby close, and the mother’s warmth comes through. That shows the baby love.
Propping a bottle is not showing anything. You might need to do it. You might have to do it. But it can’t be all the time. The baby picks up on the love. “Am I loved? Am I held close, or am I held far away? Am I held softly or tightly?” It goes through to the child. The child needs to feel loved, and it does become part of their sense of self-worth. They will love you and feel— I’m not trying to overemphasize. I’m not trying to make us walk out of here afraid to pick up our child because we don’t know if we’re picking them up right. But keep it in mind. Think about how much love and warmth I’m showing in my touch. “Come here, let me do that for you.”
We’re busy. We’re rushed. We’re stressed. We’re not relaxed. Relaxing is very annoying to me, and I’m sure this is a personality defect somewhere in my psyche. I don’t even like to relax. Relaxing makes me nervous. I want to be accomplishing things. Maybe I have to feel valued. If I’m relaxing, I don’t feel valued. But we’re not relaxed, and we don’t know how to be calm. And we don’t know how to—I don’t know about everybody. Maybe you’re very relaxed and calm and handle your children in a very relaxed and calm way. But the truth is, we need to work on that. We need to work on that.
The child has to feel, “I’m important in her life. I’m valued in her life. I’m loved.” And it’s going to show even in our touch, in the way we touch them and brush their hair. You can brush their hair, or you can brush their hair, and it takes the same amount of time. It takes the same amount of time. It’s hard; we’re rushed. I’m not saying you can be perfect. You won’t be perfect. Nobody will be perfect. That’s another thing we’re going to have to get to. But we still want to remember, as much as we can, that we can do everything in the same amount of time while showing love, just by doing it a little softer, a little sweeter, a little calmer.
We want them to feel safe and to feel that they can trust the people around them. We want them to feel that the world is a place where they can survive. To feel safe means that my needs are taken care of. I never did like to raise children with a very strict schedule. “He ate now. He can’t eat.” I tell my daughter, “Honey, I ate half an hour ago too, and I’m really hungry. I can’t help it. I really got hungry.” You’re going to change? All right, good. Maybe we should have changed me so I wouldn’t get hungry. But I really am hungry. I stay on my strict schedule: I just ate, so therefore I can’t be hungry.
Maybe I can be hungry and want to wait and set up a pattern. But how strict do I have to be with a schedule? How strict do I have to be with “You can’t do this because of that”? We want the children to trust that someone cares about their needs. If you’re on an every-four-hour feeding schedule and you let the child cry for a crazy amount of time, I think that’s a problem. I think that’s a problem. How long can this child cry? You have to have a limit. You have to have a limit.
It’s hard for me to listen to a child cry, and I had to go the other way because I have to make sure I let the child cry a little before falling asleep. The children need to cry a little before they fall asleep; that’s their pattern. They wind themselves down and fall asleep, so you have to let them cry a little bit. How much? To what point? I would give myself a time limit and look at the clock: “Okay, five minutes. If she’s still crying in five minutes, then I’m going to do something.” Five minutes sounds short, but it’s not. When you’re watching the clock, five minutes is not so short. I’m not saying it has to be five minutes. It could be ten minutes. It could be fifteen minutes. You’ll figure out what needs to be done for your child. But it can’t be, “This is my schedule; he fits into my schedule or not, and otherwise I can ignore him. I’m allowed to ignore him until he fits into my schedule.” I don’t think that’s good. I think that’s a lack of trust, and it doesn’t fill the trust and safety that a child should feel: “I am taken care of.”
We want the child to feel that the world is a happy place. Some people grow up with a very optimistic personality, feeling that the world is a happy place. Some grow up with a very pessimistic feeling that the world is not a happy place, and they expect one problem after another. We think that probably came from later circumstances in their life that proved it to them, and maybe it did. But there’s also a sense they pick up right away, which is going to leave an impression in their little, tiny, gorgeous, capable brain.
A happy environment in the home leaves a happy impression on the child. A baby hears the music in the background and the happy noises. Those sensory things are very, very in tune from a very young age. He hears the happiness in the home and says, “Ooh, the world’s a happy place. I can’t wait to get involved. This sounds good. Right now I can’t do anything but listen, but it sounds like a happy place.”
The baby is there listening only to yelling and tension. It’s a scary world, and it’s not a happy world. He’s not so thrilled about going to the next step. We have to be careful that our home is a happy place and that even our infants hear and pick up the happiness in our home. We have to work on it.
As the child grows up, there are different things we need him to know. It happens gradually. As the child becomes a little more capable of doing things on their own, whatever those things may be, we want them to feel, “The people around me believe in me and think I can do it, and therefore I will try.” We want them to feel, “I can do it, and I believe in myself because they believe in me.”
As soon as our children are old enough to do something on their own, we should give them the opportunity to succeed at doing it on their own. We should make sure to show them that we believe in them and trust they can do it. When parents do everything for their children and don’t let them do anything for themselves, they’re not doing the child justice. The child will feel, “Oh, she thinks I can’t do it. I must not be capable. I’ll let her do it for me.” They might grow up looking for something else, with that first impression that we believe in them. We have to convey that we believe in them.
The book brought out an interesting point that I also connected with. Adler said that when a child is born with certain disabilities—and I don’t mean only major disabilities; it could be as simple as speaking a little late—they end up speaking, God bless them, and not stopping, but they spoke a little late. They walked a little late. Or they don’t cut with the scissors as well as the other kids in their class. You look at the teacher and think, “Oh, I’m not cutting with the scissors.” The child already feels inadequate in a certain way. “How come everybody else is communicating and I can’t? How come the other little kids are walking around and I’m not? How come I’m not cutting with the scissors?”
You have to be very careful to teach the child, “Honey, that’s your way of developing. You’re going to get there. It doesn’t matter. Hashem has His plan.” Hashem has His plan for how everybody gets to the same point, but that’s not what Hashem wants. Hashem has a purpose for you that’s different from everybody else’s. Your purpose is going to come from the way Hashem created you. The way you were created is special. The way Hashem made you is special, and every development in your life happens at the time Hashem says is the right one for you. You have to make him feel good about everything Hashem has put into his life, and yet encourage him to be the best he can be.
When we encourage them to be the best they can be, again, we have to be careful. We want to encourage our children to be the best they can be. We want them to fulfill their purpose and potential in life. But we don’t want them to become perfectionists, and we don’t want them to feel, “I’m only valued if I’m perfect, and to be less than perfect is to fail.” There’s a balance. How do I teach my child to strive to be the best and not think of himself as a failure if he isn’t the best? How do I teach my child to keep pushing to do the most he can do, while knowing that I love him whatever level he reaches?
We have to be sure we’re not giving the impression, “You’re only valued if you’re the best, and you’re only good if you’ve done it all. You must achieve perfection: the top of the class, the best in the family.” How many times do we use the word “best”? Who’s the best? Who did it the fastest? Who did it the best? Who did it the greatest? Enough times, and the child is going to feel that what’s valued is being at the top. If you’re not at the top, you’re not valued. If you didn’t make it to the best, you didn’t succeed.
There’s a balance. It’s a hard balance. I never want my child to be satisfied with mediocre. I never want my child to feel that he can stop striving. But I don’t want my child to feel, “Why bother? I could never be the best.” This little kid grows up in a family where he’s the best: he’s the best, he’s the smartest, he’s the cutest. He goes out into a classroom of 30 kids—unbelievable, there are a lot of smart, cute, good kids—and it’s like, “Hello, aren’t I the best?” He’ll try to be the best for a while, and if he can’t be the best, he might give up. There’s only one position of “best” in his mind. If he can’t reach it, he might give up on the whole thing. Why bother?
What do we have to prove to our child? His best is best. He has a potential that Hashem gave him, and it’s not compared to anybody else. If he reaches his own potential, he’s the best. It doesn’t go by marks. It doesn’t even go by how many times a rabbi finished Shas. It goes by him fulfilling his best, striving as much as he can. He reached it; he is the best he could be. That’s what “best” means. “Best” doesn’t mean best compared to the people around me. Best is my best, and I have to always be striving for my best. Everybody else’s achievements don’t take away from my best. They don’t come into my life. The next person’s achievements are his best. Hashem doesn’t judge us like that. He judges us by us.
I’m reminded of a story I heard from Rabbi Tauber, and I told it in another class, so it’s worth repeating. There was a boy in a yeshiva who had learning disabilities. He was trying to learn the same page of Gemara over and over again, while watching the boys in the yeshiva fly past him, making this siyum (completion) and that siyum. He was struggling and struggling and struggling, and felt he was getting nowhere. He really was falling into a depression. I think this boy also had other problems in life: he was an orphan, he was poor. I mean, it seemed like everything was wrong.
He became so depressed, lo aleinu, that he actually tried to commit suicide. The rabbi of the yeshiva found him and saved him. He didn’t know what to do, so he took him to a great rabbi. I’m sorry I didn’t know I would say this today, so I didn’t look it up. This great rabbi was someone many people came to ask questions. The head of the yeshiva wanted to give the young man a bit of chizuk from this rabbi, to give him strength to go on.
A room was filled with people waiting to speak to the rabbi. The head of the yeshiva walked in with the boy, and the rabbi looked up from his desk and said, “Everybody else leaves. I want to speak to him.” Everybody left except for the rabbi and his students, and they didn’t say a word. The rabbi started to shake and told the boy, “Do you know what happens in Shamayim (Heaven) when you learn your page of Gemara? In Shamayim, Hashem tells all the angels to be silent because He’s listening to your Gemara. Who are you? What kind of a student are you? I want to know who you are.”
Then they told the rabbi why they had come: the boy was going to commit suicide because he felt so useless and worthless, and he couldn’t learn; he was struggling with his learning. The rabbi said, “I wish I had your place in Shamayim. I wish I had what you have.” The rabbi saw through Ruach HaKodesh (divine inspiration), when this boy walked in, what goes on in Shamayim when he struggles with his Gemara. Who’s the greater rabbi? Who’s the greater person? Who’s the best? It’s not best by what we consider best when we compare one person to another. Where is his heart? Where is his striving? Is he doing his best? This boy was doing his best, and he was the best in Shamayim. He was the best.
We have to be able to convey to our children the idea that “best” is not compared to anyone else. Best is my best, but I can never stop striving for my best. I’m not looking at the people around me; they’re different from me. They’re not me. But I can never stop trying for my personal best. I can never say, “I reached it. Good, I’m here. I reached my personal best. I don’t have to go any further.” Linda said, “This is best. It’s best. It’s finished. I’m over. I’m done.” Not till 120. There is no such thing. We have to feel that we can always be just a little bit better, just a little bit more, just a little bit more trying. But we will be our best. It doesn’t go by everyone else. Every child in your family is the best. Each must strive to be the best he can be, not compared to the others.
It’s a very hard lesson to teach because society does not run by that rule. Society says that “best” is whoever gets the award in school for best student of the week or best student of the year. Then there’s the one who gets the New Daughter Award or the Prayer Award, or the award that they’re fishing for because they don’t really think the child is the best. That’s the system we live in, and we have to fight against that system of having the best in the child’s mind.
Some children who recognize that they’re not going to be the best according to society’s system will pick being the best troublemaker anyone ever saw, and he’s going to say, “I am the best.” He may not even consciously realize that he wants to be the best troublemaker ever, but he may want to be. Because you know something? If he wants to be the smartest kid in the school, he doesn’t think he can be the smartest kid in the school. So if he has to be the best, he can be the best troublemaker. He could be the best goody-goody in the school, to the point that he negates any of his own things.
You know the type of child who gives away what you just bought them? You bought him a brand-new pencil case, and he comes home and gives it away. You buy him a new crayon, and he gives it away. There is such a thing as being too good. God bless, I’m thinking of somebody in my mind, a little kid. I worry, and I sometimes tell her, “Honey, don’t give your brother your seed. It’s fine. You already did this, that, and the other. I want you to sit here.”
If there’s something about being the best in goodness that goes beyond what they really should be doing, if it goes beyond feeling that they are a person too, then a person who thinks they have to be the best is looking to be the best in some area and is feeling they have to live up to society. We have to make our children understand that every single person is created by Hashem for a purpose different from everybody else’s purpose. Hashem doesn’t put people in the world just as extras. There are no extras in the world. Every person has a reason and purpose that is necessary for the completion of the world. That’s why each of us was put in this world by Hashem. There is a purpose they must fulfill.
I’ll go back to that first explanation of Adam. I also heard this explanation from Rabbi Tauber. He says that Adam HaRishon was the most intellectual, smartest person ever created. He was created by the hand of Hashem. He knew the whole Torah. He knew from the beginning of time till the end of time everything that would be. He had the intellect of Hashem’s creation. He was the creation of Hashem. There was nothing primitive in his thinking. He was tremendously, tremendously on the highest level possible in every way.
Hashem put him in Gan Eden and told him, “This is a beautiful, perfect world. You can have everything from it except the tree of knowledge, good and evil. Just don’t eat from that tree. Everything else you can have.” And Adam ate from the tree. So how do we understand that? How do we understand that the most intellectual, perfect person, the person who knows Hashem, spoke to Hashem, knows everything in nevuah (prophecy) and all of Torah kulah (the whole Torah), couldn’t do this one thing—not eat from that tree?
He didn’t do it because the snake told him. Maybe the snake has some power we don’t understand, and it had some influence on Chava that we don’t understand. But Adam didn’t eat because of the snake. His wife came home and said, “Honey, I ate from it. You eat from it too.” And he said, “Okay.” What husband says okay to his wife so quickly? We don’t know such a husband. Why did he listen?
There is an explanation. It’s not necessarily the only explanation; it’s definitely not the only explanation. But there’s an explanation that Adam, in his wisdom and superior intellect, understood that Hashem showed him a perfect, finished world: Gan Eden, Olam Haba (the World to Come), the world after Mashiach (the Messiah), the perfection, the finished product. Hashem said, “This is the world.” Adam said, “So what do we do? It’s finished.” Hashem told him, “Make sure you don’t destroy my world.” And Adam thought, “I think Hashem’s hinting that He really wants me to destroy the world.”
When do we hear of that happening later in history? If you remember, when Moshe Rabbeinu—when Hashem tells him, when the Bnei Yisrael (the Children of Israel) sinned with the golden calf—Hashem tells Moshe Rabbeinu, “I’m going to destroy the world, and I’m going to make a new world from you. I don’t want the Bnei Yisrael anymore. I’ll make a new one from you.” Hashem tells Moshe Rabbeinu, “Don’t pray to try to save them. Don’t try to stop me.” The Mefarshim (commentators) say that Moshe knew that when Hashem said, “Don’t stop me,” He was hinting, “Stop me.” Maybe Moshe learned it from Adam HaRishon. Hashem said, “Don’t destroy my world.” Adam HaRishon realized there might be a purpose in destroying the world. Maybe Hashem was showing him the finished picture of the completion of the world after 6,000 years, but wanted him to unravel it, and then the people in the rest of history would put it back together again.
The rabbi gives a mashal (parable) of a puzzle: 6,000 pieces, however many pieces this jigsaw puzzle has, a stunning puzzle. But you get it as a gift and it’s already done. You say, “It’s beautiful. But it’s a puzzle. What am I supposed to do? It’s already done.” And you don’t get the hana’a, the enjoyment, because it’s framed on your wall and people come in and say, “Wow, you did that puzzle?” “No, it came that way.” It’s like the tapestry on the wall: “You made it?” “No, I bought it.” The beautiful cake on your table, you present it to your guests. “Wow, you made that cake.” “No.” Sometimes you make 70 different things on a table, and the one thing you bought is what they ask about: “What’s the recipe for that?” You have to say, “I didn’t make it. I don’t know.” When we make it ourselves, there’s more enjoyment from it.
So we have this puzzle, and we take it apart. Now Hashem gave each one of us a piece. We’re each holding a piece of the puzzle. Every Jewish person born has a piece of the puzzle. When the puzzle is complete, Mashiach comes, and we’re ready for that Gan Eden again. According to that opinion, Adam understood that Hashem’s will was not to start mankind as a finished product in Gan Eden and stay there, but to develop into a nation that earned Gan Eden. That’s one opinion, not all the opinions.
According to that opinion, we each hold one puzzle piece. Have you ever tried to do a jigsaw puzzle and your baby brother or your baby took one of the pieces and ran away? You can’t finish the puzzle. Try to convince your children, “Finish it anyway; it doesn’t matter.” No, it matters. We can’t finish the puzzle without that piece. We can’t have Mashiach without each person putting in their piece.
That’s how we can understand: How can our generation bring Mashiach if the Chafetz Chaim’s generation couldn’t bring it? If the Rambam couldn’t bring it? If Rabbi Akiva couldn’t bring it? So we say, no. They had a wonderful piece, a big piece, a very impressive piece, and they put it in. They did it; they put their piece in the puzzle. But I still have my tiny little sky piece, my tiny little light-blue piece that looks insignificant. But it’s not insignificant, because we can’t finish the puzzle unless I put my little light-blue piece in that spot. Every person is holding a piece. Every person has their own piece. No two people are holding the same piece. We each have our piece of the puzzle.
We have to fulfill our purpose in life, and we have to strive for our personal best to fulfill our purpose in life and put in our piece. You put in your piece by fulfilling your potential and doing the best you can with what Hashem gives you of your life.
We have to raise our children with an understanding that they are very valued in this world. No one could replace them, exactly the way they are, exactly the way Hashem created them—with their speech deficiency, late walking, learning disability, and problems in life. That’s the piece they’re holding. We need you. If your piece were as good as the kid sitting next to you, we wouldn’t need you; it would be the same piece. Every piece is different. Every child is important, special, valued, and given the exact personality traits, disabilities, strengths, and talents Hashem wants him to use for his piece.
We have to believe this about our children before we can teach it to them. We can’t teach it to them as an intellectual thought. I have to believe it. I’ll tell you, it helped me a lot to understand what it means to love every Jew. When you realize that every Jew was created exactly the way he was because we all need him—we need him to fill in his piece too—it connects us all to that one puzzle. It makes us respect each other, whoever we are and whatever level we’re on. That’s what Hashem wants us to work with. That’s the material we have to work with.
If I picture a puzzle piece in each one of my kids’ hands, I think of each one as having a puzzle piece. There are no mistakes, no extras, and no copies. I’m going to respect and value each child for who they are and help them develop to their own personal best. If I believe it, I can convey it to my children. If I don’t really believe it, I can’t convey it. I have to believe that Hashem really knows what He’s doing and doesn’t make mistakes.
A mother asked, “It’s hard to give each child attention. You value each child, and you know each child is special. But then you’re trying to play with one child, and another child comes and takes you away and wants your attention. I still haven’t figured out how to handle it.”
Nobody has. Nobody has. It’s impossible to figure out time management. You’re talking about the practical time management of life. Boy, if you figure that out, let us all know. It’s impossible. You’re right.
But what I want us to know is beyond that. I want the child to sense that he’s important and that I love him. Yes, right now I got pulled away. But it’s not, “You’re not so important; he’s more important. He could get the mark; you can’t get the mark. Let me put my energies where they’re going to count.” There’s a difference between being pulled in different directions and the child still having a feeling of value. Don’t be bogged down with looking at the clock and asking how much time you’re spending with each one. But there is an understanding and a sense. Sometimes we already write off a child as not so capable—not so much—and think, “Let’s not bother so much with him when it comes to certain things. That’s not his skill; that’s not his thing.” We already give him a sense of feeling inadequate, and he doesn’t think we value him as much as everybody else. Show that you value everybody, not just by spending the same amount of time with everybody, but by seeing them that way and talking to them that way. Why is he special? What makes him special in this world? Everyone has something that makes them very special.
There was a question back there. A mother asked, “It’s very important for a mother to look at her child and see their good qualities. Look at the child and see what is special about them, develop in yourself a feeling that this child is great. Define greatness for her in the way you see it, but look at her as great and compliment her in those areas.”
Look at her and say, “Wow, again, I saw how well you handled that argument. You’re really so good at that. You’re really so good at relationships, or at solving a problem without it turning into a fight. I’m very proud of the way you do that. I’m very proud of the way you handle things.” When you figure out for yourself that each one of your children is very special, and you figure out how and why they are special, why they are who Hashem says is the best, then you express it to each one of your children in a way that shows them how special they are. How friendly he is, how happy he is, how optimistic he is, how creative he is, how imaginative he is—whatever it is, that’s something you can boost in the child.
Another mother asked, “One child is getting more attention than the other, either because they’re more needy or because they’ve just got cuter. When they come to school, one is just getting much more attention, and the other one starts to act up.”
The one who’s trying starts to act up. We have to be consciously aware that he’s doing that in order to balance the attention again. He wants more attention on his side. What the book tells you he’s supposed to do is ignore the negative behavior and look for positive behavior, giving him positive attention. As long as the negative attention gets him what he wants, which is attention, he’ll repeat it. He’s going to repeat what works, and if the negative attention works, he’ll get better and better at it and become the best troublemaker you ever saw.
But if it doesn’t get him attention, and he does something good by accident, and that gets him a lot of attention, it starts—nothing happens automatically; life is not that simple—but we have to start trying to shift where he’s getting his attention, so he gets attention in a positive way and not so much in a negative way. It’s difficult. It’s not easy. But being aware of it can sometimes help us shift it back where it needs to go. Any other questions?
A mother asked, “I feel like it’s the same kind of thing. It’s not only time-wise. A lot of times, when you feel this child is having an issue, you’re going to work on this child. It’s very hard to work on them when you have many children. To focus on each one of them—the other kids feel it right away. If I’m working on one kid, trying to compliment something he does or build him up, everybody else feels like they’re not the one right now, and it creates tension between them. You know what I’m saying?”
What I tried to convey to my children was that it’s impossible to concentrate on each one at the same time. Hashem didn’t give us that capability. But, please Hashem, what I try to do is be there when any of you need me. Right now, she needs me. But, please Hashem, give me the strength to be there for you when you need me. And equally, please Hashem, whoever needs me, I will be there for them. I think they understood that there were times when one needed me more than the other, but there was a basic understanding that I was there for each of them.
It wasn’t that when this child needed me, I told her, “Oh, be quiet. Oh, stop it. Go to your room. It’s not really a problem. You don’t really have to deal with it. Why are you making a big deal again?” And consistently, I felt that this child’s problem didn’t require my attention, while the other one’s problem did: “Oh yes, you have a problem. Oh, we must deal with that problem.” If it’s consistently like that, the child feels, “Why is that person so important and not me?” But there’s a sense of, “You know something? When I needed Mommy, she was here for me. Now she needs Mommy. She’s there for her.”
They won’t say it, and they’ll still complain, “How come you’re there with her? How come you’re there?” But if you convey that, you can tell them, “Honey, when you need me, I’ll be there for you.” Yes, I think they do understand. Don’t underestimate them. Don’t underestimate them. They’re not as verbal, and they don’t say as much, but they understand plenty. They understand a lot.
I would rather err—I guess that’s how you pronounce it—in overestimating their intelligence than underestimating their intelligence. When we underestimate the intelligence of our young children, I think we make more mistakes. I think they understand plenty. I think they really get it if we talk to them on their level. We can say, “Honey, I love you too. When you need Mommy, Mommy’s going to take care of you. She fell, so I’m cleaning her boo-boo. Hashem, please, may she never fall. But if you need me like that, I’m going to take care of you. She’s sick now, so I’m taking care of her. If you ever need me like that, I’m going to take care of you.” Maybe they express it, maybe they don’t, but they see it. They see it. “If you need me, I’m there for you.” You can say that without them asking you the question. You can tell them, “I can’t be everywhere for everyone at the same time. But I love you all, and my goal, please Hashem, is to have the strength and health to be there. I want to be there when any of you need me. I want to be there for each of you.” That’s the best we can do.
I hope you enjoyed this, because it was new for me and I found it interesting. I hope I didn’t drive you crazy with it.