"They contribute, they participate, they do, they bring up,
they help."
Who are they?
That's how Hadassa (not her real name) describes children of
families blessed with many children. Our generation has
merited a real blessing, a blessing of children; families
with fourteen or eighteen children are not rare.
We wanted to hear how children in such families feel. How
they give and how they receive; what experiences they have
and what memories they cherish and how the parents fit into
the picture.
A picture of blessing.
The following letter reached the Hebew Bayit Neeman
paper in response to a letter emphasizing the need for a
child to have his mother to himself and the difficulty within
large families to provide the child with quality "Mommy
time". The writer discerned a hint that children of these
types of families are, to put it mildly, less happy and so
she expressed her objection. Is there truth to her words?
We decided to seek out mothers and daughters of really large
families, of a dozen children or more, to check out if the
letter reflects reality. We'll open with the first part of
the letter that attacks the subject frontally — is
there joy in these large families?
The answers of those interviewed speak for themselves.
THE LETTER
To "Bayit Ne'eman"
I want to contradict Mrs. K.'s opinion about all the new-
fangled psychological approaches promoting the ideas that
every child needs his mother to himself for quality time etc.
All of these stem from the fact that families have fewer and
fewer children. In the world at large, each family has one or
two children and they are the ones who have developed the
above-mentioned theories.
In our families — may they multiply — it doesn't
seem to me that there is a need for these words: many decades
ago, I heard of an interview conducted by a (secular)
journalist among secular families with many children. The
common thread among the families was the children's reaction
of "I am going to have a small family" and the like. And the
inevitable conclusion was, of course, that large families is
not good for children!
Recently, I happened to be comforting mourners at a family
blessed with many children where one of the parents had died.
The children, themselves already grandparents, were talking
among themselves and one said: "I was always pampered more
than anyone else." Said the second: "What are you talking
about? I think our parents loved me most!"
Surprisingly, all the children sitting there reacted
similarly! (more than 10!) Each one was convinced without any
doubt, that their parents preferred him over the others. One
of the visitors sitting beside me said: "Look how they
succeeded in giving each one of you the feeling that he is
loved and special, despite the fact that you were so close in
age."
And at this point, one of the granddaughters came in —
she, too, already a mother of children — and turned to
her mother (who was sitting shivah): "We were standing
outside, my brother and I, and we heard you and suddenly it
occurred to us that we, too, each one of us, is convinced
that Ima loves him most! And we're also a large family
(14)!
I remembered my childhood; I, too, am the daughter of a large
family. My mother never had the time to sit with us for five
or ten minutes and recite Kriyas Shema. We said it in
chorus. The lights went out, the door was closed and that's
the moment we were waiting for. Very quietly we had our own
private party in our room. One time, one of the sisters would
tell an installment of a serialized story, another time we
would play guessing games. Once, we held a contest who could
contrive the most impossible story. The topics changed
obviously over the years, but everything was conducted very
quietly so that Ima shouldn't hear! Stolen water is sweet; it
adds to the pleasure. Today, I'm convinced that our mother
knew and pretended not to see (or hear), exactly as I do
today for my kids (I have 16, bli ayin harah).
A large family is a blessing and when everyone eats together
and sleeps together and does everything together, it's a
pleasure! The special aura isn't blurred because of it. On
the contrary! Each child feels the need to prove himself and
develops a unique niche for himself. And if sometimes they
felt like a big pot of "porridge," that's also great!
You wrote: "What parents sometimes think is a difficult,
unpleasant or disappointing experience is perceived
differently by children as positive, light and surprisingly
good. Sometimes we can learn from the positive perspective of
children." Ask adults from large families. They'll tell you
how happy they are to remember those "porridge days".
From a mother and grandmother, H. V.
What Parents Project - Children Reflect
Happiness permeates a home where the parents enjoy the
company of their children, says Hadassa, the daughter and
mother of a large family. Our parents "didn't see" the lower
marks and the children felt that home was a good place to be.
My father used to say: "What you don't see, doesn't exist. If
you don't notice the defects, they don't get reinforced." And
really, when we brought home report cards and they were
almost very good but not perfect and we showed them to him,
his reaction was: "Everything is very good, very good." He
"didn't see" the minuses and the "almosts" that were here and
there. Maybe he noticed them, but he didn't mention them.
That's how they diminished in importance and became
insignificant in contrast to the good things that we did that
were enlarged and seemed big and important.
I'll give you an example of a happy moment. We lived in a
small and blessedly crowded apartment. We slept six children
in a room and putting everyone to sleep was not an easy task.
We covered ourselves with a gigantic blanket that spread out
over all the beds and we, the children hid underneath it,
happy and joyful, not thinking for a moment about sleep. We
called it "camp."
I remember well wonderful experiences of trips and birthdays
but mainly of the talks into the night in the living room
with my sisters and Ima. Until 2:00 a.m. it wasn't worth
going to sleep. That's when the most serious discussions and
the biggest laughs took place. It was a shame to miss it. We
chatted of this and that and giggled. My husband likes to say
that when we get to my parents' house, before saying,
"Hello," I already start smiling. I loved the family
atmosphere of Shabbos night and those never-ending talks, the
stories we told and so on.
*
The Rebbetzin, let's call her, quietly and wonderfully runs a
special home, a large family with a large blessing and
according to her, all is "Happiness."
Q. So How is This Accomplished?
You have to be tranquil, content with what there is and not
look at what the other person has. We live in an apartment of
two and a half rooms but we've always been satisfied. Never
has one of my children said to me that the place was too
small for him. Everyone has his corner. Everyone has his
shelf and cupboard. Of course each one has a small place but
he feels that it's his territory and he's satisfied.
The secret of the happy atmosphere in my home is that
everyone is together and with this togetherness we work
towards the same goal. Before Purim, I don't make the
costumes alone. Everyone suggests an idea and together we
carry out what we're able to do and what's appropriate.
Whoever can't actively help out, enjoys sitting next to me
while I'm sewing and feels like they belong.
The atmosphere that parents project is what the children
reflect. I met a woman who also has a large family in a small
apartment and she asked me — How is it that by you not
every child has a desk? The look on her face reflected a lack
of happiness, there was no joy there. If you transmit to a
child that he's poor because he doesn't have a writing desk,
he'll feel poor.
We have lots of tables: One in the kitchen, one on the
kitchen balcony. In the living room we have a table which can
sit three. There's a folding table in the children's room
that can be opened and I have one son who likes to do his
homework on the floor. There's a place for everyone! If you
don't make them feel pitiable, they don't feel like they're
missing anything.
It's the same with money. People don't understand how we
manage without using checks, but Baruch Hashem, we
never lack for anything. We use the money we have and when we
don't, we don't buy. Yes, we compromise. We keep accounts and
buy what's most important. My girls wore second-hand clothes
that were respectable and nice; no one could tell the
difference. They looked respectable even on weekdays. I
spruced up the clothes, I matched ribbons and tights to them
and when they left the house combed and well-dressed, they
looked wonderful. We bought only a used baby carriage and it
looked better than new ones today. I made sure it was always
clean and I took care of it. I just didn't advertise when it
was made.
[to be continued]
