Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

Do you home school your children?

Of course you do. Every parent does.

Some parents Home School their children. They teach their children at home
instead of sending them to school.

But in every home, every parent teaches their children much of what they learn.

You teach your children patience, generosity, integrity, tolerance, acceptance,
compassion, empathy, and all of the other wonderful middos you exhibit. You’re an
incredible middos machine, all day, every day.

Sounds great, doesn’t it? It is great. It’s what you hope to accomplish for yourself
as a person and for your child to learn from you. Like most great accomplishments,
it’s difficult to achieve and even harder to sustain.

How great an accomplishment are good Middos? Middos are the precursor and the
pre-requisite to education. We learn that from Yaakov Aveinu.

And he (Yaakov Aveinu) sent Yehuda ahead “l’horos l’fanav.” Braishis 46:28

L’horos l’fanav: to set up for him a house of study from which would come
instruction. (Rashi, ibid)

Yaakov sent Yehuda ahead to set up a yeshiva.

We need to think about this. He should have sent Yissachar who represents the
koach of Torah as it says: Of the children of Yissochor, men with understanding of
the times, to know what Yisroel should do… (Divrei HaYomim I 12:33)

Or [he should have sent] Levi for we find later that Yaakov Aveinu A”H set him
apart and appointed him to be the leader and placed him into the yeshiva to teach
the ways of Hashem, as the Rambam wrote (raish hilchos avodas kochavim).

So why did he specifically send Yehuda?

Because we find in Yehuda the foundation of middos tovos as seen from the episode
with Tamar when he acknowledged the truth and said “tzadkah mi-meni” even
though this was a great shame for him, as the midrashim teach. To establish a
bais Talmud is only possible by way of middos tovos. They are the preparation and
condition for our holy Torah. Without middos, Torah cannot be acquired. This is

why Yaakov Aveinu sent Yehudah. (Mevaser Tov on Midos and Mitzvos Bain Adam
l’Chaveiro, maamar sheini page 58)

You can choose to Home School your children in Torah subjects, secular subjects,
both, or neither.

You do home school them in middos. It’s your choice which middos you model.
The middos you model the most consistently are the middos your children will
learn. Middos tovos are the preparation and precursor, the pre-requisite condition
for the Torah you hope they will learn.

Very nice thought, but you don’t know the terrible things my child says to me. I’m
supposed to let him get away with it?

Definitely not. That would be irresponsible. You are responsible to teach your
child what you expect of him and discipline him effectively when he does something
wrong.

You’re also responsible for how you go about it. You know the expression, “two
wrongs don’t make a right.” Saying something nasty or yelling angrily at a child
because he wronged you is a second wrong, and it doesn’t make it all right. Expect
more from your child, and expect better from yourself.

“Treat all people with equal respect and sensitivity. React calmly even to someone
who has just insulted you maliciously, and remain calm even when an irritating
nuisance pesters you incessantly.

“All people includes even those whom one usually takes for granted – one’s
parents, spouse, and children. Be as calm and courteous to your immediate family
as you are to your superior or most important client.

“Never lose your temper – even when you are exhausted, drained, disappointed,
aggravated, shocked, confused, terrified. Even when the whole world seems to
be crashing down on your head – keep calm. React slowly and deliberately – and
speak gently.” (Rav Avrohom Chaim Feuer on Iggeres HaRamban/A Letter for the
Ages, Artscroll Mesorah edition, pg 27-28, italics in original)

The middah that enables us to remain calm and speak gently is savlanus.

What is savlanus? It is not patience. It is tolerance. It means putting up with
someone or something unpleasant, inappropriate, or unfair. Rav Woble, z’tl,
addresses this at length in Alui Shur, II, shaar sheni , chapter 7, a chapter entitled
“Anger or Savlanus.” Rav Wolbe quotes the Orchos Chaim of the Rosh, “Keep
away from frivolity and anger,” and adds, “everyone who becomes angry knows
this of himself: when he is angry, his heart is not with him; it is as if he changes

into another person, a stranger, not himself.”

Rav Wolbe explains that you cannot express a measured response when you’re
angry. The basis for responding appropriately, effectively disciplining your child, is
savlanus. He spends the rest of the chapter, nine sections, on how to achieve and
maintain savlanus.

For most of us, savlanus can be difficult. You don’t just decide to be sovail instead
of getting angry.

In the first of these vaadim, Rav Wolbe spells out the methodology for acquiring
savlanus.

“We shall set aside about 15 minutes per day during which we will work at be sovail
everything we see and hear, even if we disagree with or are bothered by it. We
will not lose our menuchas hanefesh at all. If a situation arises to which we need
or are obligated to respond, we’ll respond with carefully measured words with no
emotional stress. We will work on this when we are spending time with friends,
learning or over a meal.” Rav Wolbe suggests practicing this way for a few weeks
before trying to build your savlanus at different times of the day with different
friends in various settings.

A few weeks!? Yes. Rav Wolbe in vaad shlishi spells out the importance of
cultivating savlanus with ourselves, having realistic expectations for ourselves. The
Vilna Gaon (on Mishlei 19:3) writes, “Each person has to proceed according to his
level and not jump.” Rav Wolbe adds, “Savlanus is not only for b’di-avad [after
the fact], not just to prevent despair after we have fallen short. Savlanus requires
us to exercise forethought, a calm consideration of what to realistically expect of
ourselves.”

And what to expect of your child. In vaad revi’i Rav Wolbe writes:

“So much savlanus is necessary in chinuch habanim! Only with boundless savlanus
can you come to insightful responses and guidance built on understanding the child
and his nature, to fulfill, chanoch l’naar al pi darko.

“Work on savlanus towards your family. Set a fixed time to strengthen savlanus.
It should particularly be a time of frequent frustration, such as in the morning when
the children need to get to school or at bedtime… and Erev Shabbos.”

Your home is a school. Remember that the s’vivah, the ambience and
temperament you create in your home, teaches your children middos and enables
them to learn everything else.

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman is a Licensed Mental Health Counselor with
specialties in marriage, relationships, and parenting. He works with parents and
educators, and conducts parenting seminars for shuls and organizations. He can be
reached at 718-344-6575. ...

Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

Most children, most of the time, tell the truth about their thoughts and their feelings.  They have no intention of lying or hiding anything from us.  
Yet they sometimes give us incomplete information about what they are feeling.  It’s the same thing we do to them, and to each other.  We reveal only some of our feelings, we tell a half-truth rather than disclosing the feelings that put us at risk of becoming vulnerable.
Vulnerable to what?  Vulnerable to criticism and to attack.
Here’s an example I’ve shared that many people say they can relate to:
Reuven was driving south in the left lane of Ocean Parkway approaching Avenue J when suddenly a car cut across him from the center lane to enter the left turn lane.  They both had to stop at the light at Avenue J.  Reuven lowered his window and disclosed his feelings to the driver in the turning lane to his left.
Reuven didn’t say anything that would be unfit for this family newspaper.  What he said was, “WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU!  GET SOME SAICHEL!”  He didn’t directly disclose any feelings, but his words clearly revealed his anger.  
What he didn’t reveal, directly or indirectly, was the other feeling he had experienced as a result of being cut off.  The first feeling Reuven experienced was not anger; it was fear.  He was afraid that the car crossing his path was so close he was going to collide with it, chas v’shalom, and he, his children, and his wife in the passenger seat closest to the oncoming car, could be hurt.
Can you picture Reuven pulling up along side of the offender, lowering his window, and calling out, “You really scared me.”  
I can’t imagine it, either.  But it would be the other half of the truth, the other feeling that Reuven experienced.   
We can’t imagine anyone disclosing that to a stranger who had cut him off.  Disclosing fear leaves most people feeling vulnerable to attack, to being taken advantage of because they’re seen as weak.  But how could that have happened to Reuven, what was he concerned about?  The driver who had cut him off was waiting to make a left turn, Reuven was continuing straight.  What was the risk of being attacked or taken advantage of?  Did Reuven think this driver would remember him and victimize him again if he seemed weak?  No, Reuven didn’t think any of that might happen.  He wasn’t thinking about this aggressive driver at all.  He was thinking about himself.  He was unconsciously protecting himself from thinking he is weak and vulnerable.  He was following the social norm that condones the public expression of anger and discourages “wearing your emotions on your sleeve.”
The half-truth of anger is fit for public consumption, the other half, the fear, mustn’t be worn on the sleeve.  We’ve accepted this idea and we model it for our children.
I don’t expect Reuven to disclose his fear to a stranger who cut him off.  
I would like him to tell his children the whole truth of what he felt when he was cut off.   I’d like him to ask his children what else they think about and feel when they get angry.  
Then, having addressed this kind of half-truth, I’d like him to talk with them about a common kind of lie.
Reuven: I can’t tell my children about a common kind of lie, they might think it’s okay to lie that way because it’s commonly done.
Me: That’s exactly the type of lie I’m referring to.
Reuven: What do you mean? What’s the type of lie you’re referring to?
Me:  I’m referring to the common use of the word ”can’t” when it isn’t true, it’s a lie.
Reuven didn’t mean to lie to me when he said, “I can’t tell my children about a common lie.”  It’s not a deliberate lie, but it’s certainly not the truth.  He is capable of telling his children about a common lie, it’s not something he cannot do.  It is something he would prefer not to do, it may be something he is very reluctant to do, it might even be something he’s afraid to do, but it’s definitely something he’s capable of doing, not something he “can’t” do.
Esti lied to her daughter the same way.  When she told her she could not give her a cookie because they would be having supper in 20 minutes she did not intend to lie to her but she didn’t tell her the truth.  The truth is that Esti was not willing to give her a cookie. She could have had she wanted to.  
When you don’t want to do something, say so.  Don’t hide behind “can’t.”   You don’t like it when your child hides behind “can’t,” you want her to be truthful.  Model it and you’ll see it from her more often.
Dad: Mendel, please prepare a dvar Torah to say over at the seudah when Bubbe and Zaide are here next Shabbos.
Mendel: I can’t.
Dad: What do you mean you can’t, of course you can! You just did last Shabbos.
Mendel: I can’t when Bubbe and Zaide are here.
Dad: Of course you can, don’t be silly.
Dad’s right, Mendel can say a dvar Torah when Bubbe and Zaide are there.  He can, but the truth is, he’s afraid to.  When the conversation flows in the following way, dad will learn the truth and he’ll know that Mendel wasn’t being silly:
Dad: Mendel, please prepare a dvar Torah to say over at the seudah when Bubbe and Zaide are here next Shabbos.
Mendel: I can’t.
Dad: You can’t?  What do you think will happen when you try?
Mendel: The same thing that happened the last time I said a dvar Torah when Bubbe and Zaide were here.  Zaide asked me questions about what I said, I didn’t know the answers, Bubbe told Zaide to stop asking me questions and they got into an argument.  I don’t want to cause that to happen again.
It’s still not true that Mendel can’t say a dvar Torah when you ask him to.  He can, and he is very reluctant to.  It is often easier to say you can’t do something than to talk about what you’re concerned about, what it is that is making you reluctant to do it.
We are supposed to judge everyone, including our children, favorably.  When you say, Of course you can, don’t be silly, you’re judging your child unfavorably.
The pasuk says b’tzedek tishpot amisecha, and the Mishna tells us he’vai dan es kal ha-adam l’kaf zchus.   The words, spoken gently, that express those machshavos are:
You can’t?  What do you think will happen when you try?  
Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman is a Licensed Mental Health Counselor with specialties in marriage, relationships, and parenting.  He works with parents and educators, and conducts parenting seminars for shuls and organizations.  He can be reached at 718-344-6575.

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Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

How often do you believe what your children say to you?

How often do you take what they say at face value?

The pasuk says b’tzedek tishpot amisecha, and the Mishna tells us he’vai dan es kal ha-adam l’kaf zchus.   Clearly, we are supposed to judge everyone, including our children, favorably.  We should not suspect our children of lying or distorting or withholding information in order to trick us or manipulate us.

I think that most children, most of the time, tell the truth about their thoughts and their feelings.  They have no intention of lying or hiding anything from us.  Yet they sometimes give us inaccurate or incomplete information about what it is that they are thinking and feeling.

Why do children do this to us?  How can we trust them to be sincere?

The answer is that they are sincere and they aren’t doing anything to us deliberately when they give us inaccurate or incomplete information.  They’re telling us the same things we tell ourselves, the same half-truth and lie we all too often leave unexamined and accept as truth.

The half truth we often leave unexamined is anger.  I’m not referring to looking or sounding angry.  Many people consciously choose to express anger in order to intimidate someone or cause them to change what they are doing. 

I’m referring to the visceral feeling of anger.  Rarely, if ever, does a person feel anger and no other emotion.  But we are more readily aware of the anger, and fail to examine the emotions that accompany and often precede it.

What are some of the emotions that precede and accompany anger?  Fear, disappointment, and grief are among the more common ones.

I heard Raizy screaming at her younger brother that he is stupid and lazy, and that she wishes he had never been born.  Benji began to sob pitifully.  I was so furious at her.

Me: That’s all, you were furious at her?  No other emotion, just anger?

Mom: No, now that I think back on it, I was grief stricken that my daughter could be so vicious, and sad that I hadn’t been able to shield my son from such an attack, and disappointed in myself as a mother.  I was afraid that she had scarred him for life.

Me: You were grief stricken at your daughter’s viciousness?  What do you mean by that?

Mom: I had always dreamt of having children who would be supportive of one another, generous and kind and gentle.  I never scream at my children or call them names.  I have tried so hard, and I failed.  So yes, I was grief stricken when she screamed such invective at her brother.  It was horrible.

Me: What did you do when you were so furious at Raizy?

Mom: I told Raizy that what she said to her brother was a terrible thing to say and I sent her to her room.  I said she could come out of her room when she was ready to say she’s sorry.  About 5 minutes later she came out and said she’s sorry.

Me: I don’t know if Raizy was sorry that she hurt her brother’s feelings or that she got in trouble with you, or both.  I would wait an hour or two before exploring that with her.  You can also say to her that you’re sad that she would say something so harsh to her brother.  You were willing to let her know you were angry; let her know you were sad and concerned that she really upset him badly.

I also suggested to this mom that she sit down with Benji and ask him what happened, and what he thought about what Raizy had said to him.

Mom, later that week, did.  It turned out that Benji’s take on the situation was quite different from his mother’s.   Benji told his mother that Raizy is a great sister except when she “loses it,” and then he feels very sad and cries because she says terrible things “when she goes crazy, but she gets over it and then she’s really nice again so it’s okay.”  Benji didn’t get scarred, he got calloused.  It’s much scarier for mom than it is for him.

That doesn’t mean that Raizy’s “crazy” behavior is acceptable.  It means that mom might be able to feel displeased and concerned rather than grief stricken and furious when she slows down and learns the whole truth.  The truth is that she isn’t only angry.  The intensity of her feelings is driven by grief over her perceived failure and fear of the damage Raizy may have done.  When all she expresses is anger, it’s a half-truth that isn’t enough to help her or either of her children.

You will help your children better when you are aware of all of your feelings, especially when you are able to feel safe, when you are in a state of nachas.

We see this from the first words of the Iggeres HaRamban:

Accustom yourself to speak all your words b’nachas to all people at all times. This will protect you from anger - which is an unfavorable trait that brings people to sin.

What does it mean to speak words b’nachas? 

The Ramban did not write shel nachas.  That would mean to speak words that give nachas or convey your feeling of nachas.  To speak your words b’nachas describes your state of being when you speak, to be in a state of nachas.  To be b’nachas means to be at rest, calm, secure, unthreatened, safe, and whole.  It’s a state of mind from which you can help your child because you don’t need help.

But what if you can’t be b’nachas?   G-d willing we’ll discuss that next week.

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman is a Licensed Mental Health Counselor with specialties in marriage, relationships, and parenting.  He works with parents and educators, and conducts parenting seminars for shuls and organizations.  He can be reached at 718-344-6575. ...

Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

Do you remember when your child was a baby?  You spent the first years of his life eagerly looking forward to his learning to walk and talk.  
How long did it take until you were telling him to sit down and be quiet?
For most children walking and talking, sooner or later, come naturally.  For most children, and adults, sitting quietly is harder to master.
Sitting quietly, silently waiting while nothing is being said requires mastery and conscious self-discipline.  It is difficult.  It is also invaluable.
Rav Wolbe, z’l, in Alei Shur, (Volume 2, page 35) explains it this way:
The expertise of a person in this world is to make himself as though he were mute.  The expertise is specifically not to be a chatterer.  This is what we must learn: from the time that a child learns how to speak, he chatters about whatever comes into his mind.  To be silent requires study, for silence is an important skill and only through his silence do we recognize a person as wise.
Rav Wolbe quotes the Rambam: the fence that protects wisdom is silence, therefore do not hasten to answer and do not speak too much.  (Daos, 2:5)  Rav Wolbe adds: It is fascinating how “ha’dibur ha’emesi” flows only from silence.
What is ha’dibur ha’emesi?  What does that expression mean?  Rav Wolbe didn’t write, divrei emes, “words of truth flow only from silence.”  I don’t think Rav Wolbe is referring to being truthful.  I think ha’dibur ha’emesi means “words that bring truth, words that bring accuracy, clarity, and understanding.”   Silence brings clarity and accuracy.  The converse may be discerned from the Mishna: kol ha’marbeh d’varim maivi chait, “those who speak too much cause chait.” (Avos 1:17)
The Medrash Koheles Rabbah (7:20) tells us that the word chait does not always mean “sin.”  Sometimes it means inaccuracy, failure.  With that in mind, we see that the Mishna in Avos is teaching us that saying too much can cause folly and failure.   The Rambam and Rav Wolbe teach us the converse: silence is the source of wisdom and success.
Submarines run silent and run deep.  
Parents need to slow down, stop running, in order to be silent.  When you do, your conversations and relationships with your children will go deeper.  Silence allows you to think, and your silence invites your child to slow down and think, to go deeper into the depths of her thoughts and feelings and desires.
“A word is worth a selah, silence is worth two.” Megilah 18a
The Aruch on that gemara records this teaching as follows: Rabbi Yoshia said, “The best medicine is silence.”  Rabbi Oshia said, “A word is worth a selah, silence is golden.” (literally: like a precious stone)
Why is silence so precious?  “The reason is because it is painful to remain silent, and l’fum tzaara, agra, the more the discomfort, the greater the reward.”  [Rav Avraham Abba Hertzel of Pressburg, Sifsei Chachamim on Megilah 18a]
In Ben Yehoyada, Rav Yosef Chaim (the Ben Ish Chai) writes that the word dibur alludes to the daled boros, the four chambers of our deepest thoughts: how we think about ourselves in the past; how we imagine ourselves in the future; how we think of others in our past; and how we imagine others in our future.  Our words express how we think about what we have done, and how we think about what others have done for us and to us.  Our words also convey what we wish for ourselves, and what we hope for, or fear, from others.  
Our silence allows us think more deeply, to more completely gather and organize our thoughts before we form our words.  Some call this silent time hisbodadus, contemplation, or meditation.  It happens when we give ourselves some time and find a place for silence.  It only happens for your child when you create that time and place for him.
Seventeen year old Michoel seemed quieter than usual, almost withdrawn.  His parents were concerned about him.  His mother asked him if something had happened, he said no.  His father asked him what was bothering him, he said nothing is, he’s fine.  But they were sure he wasn’t fine.  Michoel wasn’t disrespectful, he wasn’t angry, he wasn’t uncooperative.  But he wasn’t himself.  His father asked him if he’d be willing to meet with me.  Michoel said okay.  He came by himself.   Michoel sat down and looked towards me, then he looked at the floor.  I said hello; he said hello back to me.  I asked him what he wanted to talk with me about.  We sat quietly, silently, for a long time.  As we sat together in silence, I thought about a place in Washington State that I’d read about.  Here’s what I had read:
One Square Inch of Silence is the quietest place in the United States.  Located in the Hoh Rain Forest at Olympic National Park, it is 3.2 miles from the Visitor’s Center above Mt. Tom Creek Meadows on the Hoh River Trail. Hiking time from the parking lot at the Visitor’s Center to the site is approximately two hours along a gentle path lined by ancient trees and ferns.
I was thinking that Michoel had traveled to me, and I had the opportunity to give him as many square inches of silence as he needed to figure out what he wanted to say and gather the courage to say it.  It took him, literally, more than twenty minutes.  It was hard for me to be silent that long.  It turned out to be well worth it for Michoel, and for me.
Say as much as you need to say to your child, and say it as clearly and concisely as you can.  Then work even harder; be silent, let her think and gather the courage to tell you ha’dibur ha’emesi, what is deeply important and perhaps painful for her.  Give her the opportunity to go deeper into her thoughts, and choose how to share them with you.  You will make it more likely that she will.
Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman is a Licensed Mental Health Counselor with specialties in marriage, relationships, and parenting.  He works with parents and educators, and conducts parenting seminars for shuls and organizations.  He can be reached at 718-344-6575.

...

Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

One of the saddest things I hear from parents, and I hear it all too often, is:
“Shabbos is the hardest day of the week.”

How does that happen?

Perhaps the answer lies in the Zohar Chadash, quoted in Yesod v’Shoresh ha’Avodah [Shaar 8, Chapter 5]:

A person comes home from shul [on Friday night].  The Shechina sees candles burning, a set table, and a husband and wife b’simcha; at that time, the Shechina says, “This is mine, Yisrael, for in you I am glorified.”  But if not, the Shechina leaves from there, taking the angels with her, and the yetzer hara comes with its hosts.  It attaches itself to the man and woman and says, “This is mine, and it is of my hosts.”  The yetzer hara immediately influences and is m’tamei him.

A husband and wife, parents, who begin their Shabbos without simcha, who invite their children to a Shabbos table of tension and turmoil, find themselves and their children engulfed, chas v’shalom, in the influence of frustration, impatience, and anger.

If the absence of simcha is the problem, what’s the solution?  Just be b’simcha!
I know; that’s easier said than done.  But Shammai taught us how to do it.

“It was said of Shammai the elder that all his days he would eat in order to honor Shabbat.  If he would find a nice calf he would say, "This will be for Shabbat." If he found one that was nicer, he would set aside the second one [for Shabbos] and eat the first one.”  [Beitza 16a]

The Aruch HaShulchan quotes the gemara up until here, and writes:  “How good it is to put aside good foods for Shabbos for in this way we always think of Shabbos and honor it.” [Orach Chaim 242:45]  

The gemara continues:  “Hillel, however, behaved differently, for all his deeds were for the sake of heaven, as it is written, ‘Praised be Hashem each day.’"  We usually follow the opinion of Hillel.  Why not here?

The Ramban [Shemos 20:8] comments:  “Although Shammai’s course of action is not required by halachah, it is meritorious since it gives constant honor to the day that proclaims Hashem as the Creator.”

The Aitz Yosef [In Ayn Yaakov on Shabbos 119a] points out that the gemara elsewhere says that there were three disputes between Shammai and Hillel, and this one isn’t mentioned among them.  He posits that this is not a halachic dispute; it is a matter of how best to conduct oneself l’shem Shamayim and either path is acceptable.
In the Mechilta [Yisro, parsha 7] we find a teaching which parallels Shammai’s statement, with no allusion to Hillel’s.  The Merkavas Hamishna [by Rav David Moshe Avraham, Av Bais Din of Rohatyn] on that Mechilta quotes the opinions of Shammai and Hillel and outlines their underlying hashkafos.  
He begins by citing the gemara which teaches that the amount of a person’s food supply for the coming year is set on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur except for what he spends on Shabbos and Yom Tov.  
The gist of his explanation is as follows:  Hillel was able to do everything purely l’shem Shamayim mai’ahava and therefore was confident that in this merit, his everyday parnasa would be beyond what was determined for him on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur.  Shammai considered himself a bainoni, acting l’shem Shamayim mi’yirah, subject to the annual parnasa as determined on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur.  He, therefore, made purchases during the week l’kovod Shabbos.  When one of the items he had purchased l’kovod Shabbos was superseded by a better one and it became a weekday food, it was still considered to be a food purchased for Shabbos, not limited by his annual allocation.
The Merkavas Hamishna explains that this is why we follow Shammai’s practice: “Lo kal ha’rotzeh litol es hashem yavo v’yitol [not everyone is on this level].  Hillel is different; he knew of himself that his avodah was mai’ahava.  But everyone else should buy for Shabbos starting on Sunday.”
For example: How do you prepare for a child who doesn’t want to take a nap on Shabbos afternoon?  The first question is when do you prepare?   The answer is: early in the week.  Sit down with your child and talk about what activities are acceptable to you instead of napping.  Take your child to a library on earlier in the week and help him pick out some books to read on Shabbos afternoon.  Set up a neighborhood “library” to share books and games with each other.  Remember, children, like their parents, don’t enjoy reading the same books and playing the same games week after week.

Some children enjoy being quizzed by their parents at the Shabbos table, some do not.  For the child who enjoys being quizzed, be careful to ask questions the child will succeed at answering or teach the child the material to be quizzed before dinner.  The goal is for the child to review and master the material, and succeed at the quiz.
For the child who does not like to be quizzed, ask him or her how they would like to demonstrate their knowledge at the Shabbos table.  Help them prepare a dvar Torah, or devise a question for them to ask and answer at the table.
We need to prepare for Shabbos in advance, prepare ourselves and prepare for our children.  And prepare ourselves for our children, for their version of Shabbos.
“The Ari hakodesh teaches that on Shabbos, even an unlearned person who eats  just to satisfy his desire is considered to have fulfilled a mitzvah according to his level.  Surely, this is not achieving the depth of kedushas Shabbos.  Rather, it reflects the words of the zemer “kal m’kadesh shvi’i k’raio lo” [understood as: everyone can sanctify Shabbos as is appropriate to expect of him].  There are some people who are only able to observe Shabbos k’das mai’chalaloh, meaning that they are careful not to violate the laws of Shabbos, and there are others whose s’char harbei me’od. [who earn very great reward]  And there are very many levels, each person earning reward according to his level and his work, ish al machanainu v’ish al diglo, and an am ha’aretz has his place and his attachment to Shabbos.”  [Likutei Oros pp. 87-88]
Many years ago, my wife and I shared our Shabbos table with a group of teenage boys who, for various reasons, weren’t with their parents for Shabbos.  With their counselors, there were more than a dozen of us sitting down to the Friday night meal.  Shortly after the fish was served, one of the boys took out a comic book and began to quietly read it.  A counselor was about to tell him to put it away, but I motioned to leave him alone.  He put down the comic somewhere between the soup course and the chicken and joined us in the zemiros before dessert.  Had I pushed him to a higher level of Shabbos participation when he took out the comic, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have been at the table to sing anything that evening.  Had I made an issue about his returning if he had left, most of the boys wouldn’t have been singing with any joy in their hearts if they were singing at all. His comic book did not create a Shabbos table of tension and turmoil and neither did I.  
By our third Shabbos together, there was no comic book at the table because he had risen to a higher level of Shabbos observance.

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman is a Licensed Mental Health Counselor with specialties in marriage, relationships, and parenting.  He works with parents and educators, and conducts parenting seminars for shuls and organizations.  He can be reached at 718-344-6575.

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Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

When I was in elementary school, we knew that somebody being faster than a
speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive and able to leap tall buildings in a
single bound was science fiction. What passed for science fact was even stranger:
you could survive an atomic bomb attack by standing in the school corridor, up
against a locker with your hands behind your head. That’s why we practiced doing
it in during air raid drills. It was surreal, and a little scary.

I was in junior high school when the Cuban missile crisis made the threat of nuclear
war frighteningly real. I remember having long talks with my parents, a’leihem
hashalom, during which they assured me that we would be okay. I was eleven
years old, and I believed them because they never lied to me.

I spent the summer of 1966 with my aunt, uncle, and cousins in Netanya. Less
than a year later, when I listened to the news of bombs landing in Israel, Hashem
yishmor, I was terrified for them. Baruch Hashem, none of them was hurt.

But we, and our children, have heard about people being hurt. We, and they,
remember the loss of a yeshiva child at the hands of adult from our own
community, the murder of a yeshiva teacher by her husband, and the tragedies
that have taken place in public schools. We and they feel deeply saddened by
what happened to them, and frightened by it.

What are you supposed to say to your child when he is scared? How do you make
sense out of something that is senseless, explain the inexplicable, and assure your
child that something that should never have happened will never happen again?

Those were the questions on the mind of a mother of an eight year old who called
me the day that her child’s school was shocked by the news that a teacher had
been murdered by her husband. Even though her child had never been in this
teacher’s class, her child knew this woman and was deeply shaken by what had
happened. Raizy said she had told her daughter that they would talk about it later,
and that Chani shouldn’t worry that anything bad could happen to anyone else in
her school.

But something very bad had happened, and I don’t know how to explain it to her.
What should I tell her? She has, unfortunately, heard about terrible things before,
but I’ve always been able to say to her that what happened there could never
happen here. This struck awfully close to home and I don’t know what to say to
her. How much should I tell her about what really happened and what they’re
saying might have been the reason?

I began by making it very clear that there’s no reason that could possibly make
sense out of or justify what had happened. Then, as is my wont, I asked her a
question.

Raizy, how have you explained this to yourself? How have you made sense out of
what happened and been able to go on with your life so far?

Raizy: It’s totally senseless, and at first I guess I didn’t go on with anything. I was
driving home from seeing one of the children I work with, and I was half listening
to the news on the radio when they said the name of my daughter’s school. Even
though nothing had happened at the school, Baruch Hashem, I was scared about
what would happen when my daughter found out I remember starting to cry but
deciding that I needed to get home and as soon as I got home I called my husband
and told him what had happened and he helped me calm down but when Chani
came home I didn’t know what to tell her, so I told her we’d talk with her later.

Me: And since you said that to her, what have you been doing?

Raizy: What do you mean what have I been doing? I haven’t been doing anything,
I called you to find out what to do.

Me: Yes, and I’m sorry that it took me over an hour to return your call. What have
you been doing in the meantime?

Raizy: I prepared supper and served it and we ate, very quietly.

Me: What you did, Raizy, is you went on with your life to the best of your ability
even though you were very shaken by what had happened and very concerned
about what to say to your daughter. You showed her that life goes on even when
you’re scared and unsure. The next thing to do before you tell Chani anything, is
to ask her what happened. Don’t assume that she knows what you know; don’t
assume anything. When she tells you her understanding of what happened, and
tell her that you think what happened was terribly sad that you hope such a thing
will never happen again. Then ask her to tell you what she thinks about what
happened and what she wishes you could say or do to help her.

If she wishes for reassurance, give it to her. We trust Hashem to shield and protect
us and we doven and do teshuva to bring zchus for ourselves and others.

The Chofetz Chaim, when told of a flood in Mississippi that claimed many lives,
said, “If hashgacha pratis has caused us to hear of this disaster here in Radin then
we must do teshuvah.“ The Chofetz Chaim responded in a similar vein after hearing
that Mount Fuji had erupted in Japan, causing widespread destruction (Kol Kisvei
Chofetz Chaim, vol. 3, Michtavim 10, 12, 30, 40). May we, in his zchus and our
own, share b’soros tovos.

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman is a Licensed Mental Health Counselor with
specialties in marriage, relationships, and parenting. He works with parents and
educators, and conducts parenting seminars for shuls and organizations. He can be
reached at 718-344-6575. ...