Last week I told you a story. It took place on a Friday night, and was repeated on
many Friday nights. Hereâs the part where dad got involved:
Shloime started to sing Shalom Aleichem in a silly voice and Danny told him to
stop, but he didnât, so Danny pushed him and he fell back into the table, knocking
over the Kiddush cup that had just been filled with wine. Dad said, âDanny, how
many times have I told you not to do that? Why did you do it again?â
Danny said, âI donât know.â
Dad has a problem with Dannyâs behavior, so Dad asked Danny a âwhyâ question.
Asking why questions doesnât usually lead to solutions. Why not? Because, when
you ask someone why they did something, they are expected to justify what they
did.
There is nothing that Danny can say that his father will consider a valid justification.
Thatâs the problem with asking âwhy.â The solution is to ask better questions.
Time and place matter, too. Youâre not going to undo what just happened, thatâs
not possible. It is important that you prevent it from recurring; important, not
urgent. Wait until the emotions have subsided and your cooler heads will prevail.
The two questions that would be more helpful are:
What happened? and What else could you do?
Dad: Danny, you pushed your brother into the table so the Kiddush cup ended up
spilled. What happened?
(Note: Dad just described what happened. His question means âwhat happened to
you that you were so upset, Danny.â)
Danny: I didnât mean to knock over the Kiddush cup, Dad, and I really feel bad that
Mom started to cry. I just get so angry at Shloime when he makes fun of mitzvos.
I know I shouldnât have pushed him but I canât stand it when he does that.
Dad: So it really bothers you, Danny, when Shloime sings Shalom Aleichem in that
silly voice. Itâs like he is making fun of the mitzvah. You really wish he would sing
it in a more respectful way.
At this point, dad waited to hear what Danny had to say. Dad did not tell Danny
that singing Shalom Aleichem isnât really a mitzvah, and he didnât explain to
Danny that since Shloime is very young we have to be more tolerant of him. Dad
didnât tell Danny anything. He just made it clear to that him that he was listening
carefully to what Danny was saying. Then dad sat quietly, patiently waiting while
Danny thought about what he wanted to say next. Thirty seconds feels like a very
long time when youâre sitting silently, respectfully allowing someone to gather their
thoughts. When Danny finally spoke, dad knew it had been worth the wait.
Danny: I guess I shouldnât get that upset with him, heâs a little kid. I understand
that weâre singing Shalom Aleichem to greet the Shabbos malachim, but for
him itâs just another song. You know what dad; Iâm going to cut him a lot more
slack. Iâm really going to try to focus on what Shalom Aleichem means to me,
and then I wonât even notice how heâs singing it. And dadâ¦this was a really good
conversation; thanks for helping me figure this out!
How did dad help Danny figure it out? Dad listened, acknowledged what he heard,
and waited quietly while Danny pondered his dilemma. For the most part, Dad was
silent and his silence spoke volumes. Dad wordlessly conveyed concern, interest,
patience, and respect for Dannyâs desire and ability to figure out a better way to
respond to his younger brother. Dannyâs confidence grew as he realized that his
father trusted him to analyze his problem and identify solutions rather than needing
to be told what to do.
Dad gave Danny two vital tools with which to work on his problem: time and
confidence. Dad provided Danny some quiet, relaxed time with no interruptions
and no distractions, enhanced by his fatherâs patient, soothing presence.
Dad invited Danny to think about Shloimeâs behavior, and Danny was able, on his
own, with dadâs support, to think about Shloimeâs behavior in a more favorable
way.
The mishna in Avos says, al tâhi dan yechidi, usually translated as, âdonât judge a
case by yourself.â The Ben Ish Chai writes that this also means when you see or
hear something, donât assume that your first interpretation is the only possible one.
Think about what else it could mean, what else could be happening. If you arenât
able to judge someone elseâs behavior in a favorable light, donât assume there isnât
one. Ask them, âwhat happened,â in a curious tone of voice, rather than, âwhy did
you do that,â spoken critically. Dad didnât tell over this mishna. He modeled it,
and Danny learned it.
The story, BâH, has a happy ending:
It was the new version of a typical Friday night seudah. Baila asked her father
to sing Shalom Aleichem slowly so she could keep up. Devoiry whined that itâs
going to be boring, he should sing it fast. Shloime started to sing it in a silly voice.
Danny didnât tell him to stop. He smiled at his little brother, knowing that someday
he too would understand how special it is to welcome the Shabbos melachim to
their home.
How young a child can you expect to work with this way, to invite them to identify
alternatives and solutions instead doing it for them? I have found that teenagers,
adolescents, and young children, given the opportunity, come up with wonderful
ideas and solutions. One mom told me she was pleasantly surprised when she
presented her 3 year old daughter with a dilemma, and her child came up with an
idea that worked really well. Why not try it with your child?
Slow down. Give your child a chance. Heâll appreciate your confidence in him, and
youâll enjoy the nachas.
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.