As parents and teachers, we think of ourselves as being the
givers and of children as the receivers. We teach them
manners, language, life skills and good character traits. We
rack our brains for ways to stimulate, inspire, and basically
connect with our progeny and lead them in the life course we
set out for them. We exert great efforts to turn our
offspring into intelligent, well-behaved, kind-hearted
members of society, imbued with G-d-fear and love for
Torah.
Since beginning my career as a mother, I've noticed something
different, something unexpected. Here I thought I was to be
the teacher, and in fact, my children have taught me much
more than any textbook could have.
R' Yisroel Salanter said that he learned three things from
children: 1) Whenever they fall, they get right back up; 2)
They keep crying until their parent answers them and 3)
They're always happy, always occupied. I can add some other
messages we adults can learn from these miniature people.
Recently, my eight-year-old daughter taught me the importance
of silence, restraint, or rather, when silence is the most
appropriate reaction. After coming home from her friend's
house, she picked her hand up for me to see a cut in her
thumb, next to the nail. She explained that her friend had
accidentally closed a window on her finger and instead of
lashing out, "Ouch! Why did you do that?" or some other
attack, she just told her friend quietly that she got hurt,
without letting her know that she had inflicted the
injury. She explained to me, "I didn't want her to feel
bad..." Do I always remain so composed and suppress my
pain when someone steps on my toe or pushes me in
line?
The epitome of R' Salanter's point about persistence, the
forerunner of perseverance, is my two-year-old. He never
ceases to amaze us. A couple of months ago, when his older
siblings were doing somersaults, this curly, blond-haired
cherub decided to give it a try. He placed his head on the
mattress that serves as the family's gymnastics mat. PUSH and
PLOP to the left. Again, PUSH and PLOP to the right. Again,
PUSH and PLOP on his face. Again, and... and... WHAT? He did
it? He did the somersault! And ever since then, he's been a
pro.
More recently, he discovered 24-piece puzzles. Initially, I
thought, Oh, no! He's going to be so frustrated trying
that. It's way above him. But then I looked again and a
quarter of the puzzle was done. With just a little help, he
did it. And then another, and another.
Do I always stick to my goals? Do I often get discouraged
when faced with failure?
If you ever need someone to help you brainstorm on making
something out of nothing, you must meet my ten-year-old. He
has ideas that would just never occur to me. Just as an
example, he made himself a notepad, the kind where the papers
are all stuck together at the top, attached to a red
strip.
"How did you do that?" I asked him. He explained that he cut
papers out to a certain size, glued them all together at the
top, waited for the glue to dry and then colored it red. When
I asked where he got the idea, he said that his rebbe has a
pad like that, so he decided to make one himself. I asked him
to make one for me too, for writing down my shopping lists.
He did it and even added a magnet onto the back so I can keep
it on the fridge.
Do I always open my mind to possible solutions? Do I
always tap into my creativity?
Giving in is a trait we all need throughout our lives. My 4
1/2 year old serves as good model for this. If someone wants
to sit on his chair, he generally lets them. When a sibling
wants to use his toy or tricycle or color in the picture he
just brought home from cheider, he hands it over. If
someone wants some of his treat, he'll gladly give them a
little. He's not just a pushover; sometimes he says `no.' But
so often, he gives in or simply gives, and with a smile,
apparently enjoying it. Then he tells me, "I did a big mitzva
now, didn't I?"
Do I always give in when I should? Are there times when I
should give more generously and happily?
Even our six-month-old has taught me an important lesson in
life: forgiveness. If amidst the hubbub, it takes me a minute
to get to him when he cries and wants to be fed, as soon as I
pick him up, he gives me one of those toothless, ear-to-ear
grins, as if to say, "It's O.K., Mommy. I know you came as
fast as you could, and now you're here." Or if a sibling
tickles him a little too hard, he doesn't hold a grudge. He
lets that child hold him again right away.
Do I always forgive slights so quickly? Do I let go of
hard feelings immediately?
These are just examples of the many lessons my children have
taught me. Maybe if we keep a lookout for these messages in
our child-raising and put less effort into faultfinding,
we'll create a more positive attitude in ourselves, in our
children and in our homes.
