What three letter word causes more pain, disappointment, and resentment than perhaps any other in the English language?

But.

How painful is it when a young man’s parents hear the word but from a shadchan:

They think your son is a very sweet boy.  They said he seems sincere, and they know he comes from a very chashuva family.  But…  

Yes, but no matter how sweet, sincere, and chashuv you and your son may be, this young woman’s family is not going to pursue this shidduch.

How disappointed is a parent who hears the word but from a morah:

I can see that your daughter wants to make friends and she is trying really hard, but…  Yes, but even though she’s trying, your daughter doesn’t have any friends.

How resentful is your child when you tell him:

We’d like to spend more time with you, and we know we’re very busy with your baby sister, but…   Yes, you deserve more of our attention, but we are so consumed with your baby sister’s difficulties, we don’t have any more time for you.

In each of these examples, you could hear the “but” coming.  You wish you could stop the speaker while they still sounded positive and reassuring, before they tore it all down with the “but.”  But, you can’t.  Maybe you don’t need to.

The shadchan, the morah, and the parent in the above examples had bad news to convey.   They knew that, and they wanted to cushion the blow.  It is more compassionate to say, “I wish I could say what you want to hear, I wish I could give you want you want to have, but right now, I can’t,” rather than just saying, “no.”  It isn’t just sounding like you feel bad when you don’t.  It’s usually truthful.   You often do wish you could spend more time than you can with the ones you love, or to agree to what someone wants when you want something else.  Yes, but you can’t, or choose not to.  So when you are about to disappoint someone who is hoping for something, you try to let them down gently.

When can the word “but” be uplifting?  Is there any way to use the word to give chizuk to someone who is already disappointed?

What happens when your child brings home a test grade that he is unhappy about, and he’s clearly disappointed?

If you say, If you had studied more, you would have done better, you acknowledge that he’s unhappy with the grade he earned, and you criticize him for doing poorly when you think he could have done better.  You may be right, yes, but how much more unhappy would you like him to be?  What do you think you’ve accomplished by making him feel even worse over something he feels bad about already?

I don’t know what else to say to him.  Am I supposed to tell him he shouldn’t feel bad?

No, don’t tell your child what he should or shouldn’t feel.

So I should tell him it’s okay that he feels bad that he did poorly on the test?

That depends on what you mean by “okay.” 

If you mean, “You deserve to feel bad, you’re not worthy of feeling good about yourself when you bring home a test grade like that one,” then no, don’t say it.  The dearth of compassion would render your words unhelpful, if not harmful.

Instead, you could say “it’s okay” and offer chizuk. 

You could say, “I feel bad for you that you feel bad about your test grade, and it’s okay to feel bad about something.  It can be signal that you would like something to be different the next time.  Yes, you wish you had done better on that test, but you will have another test.  How could you prepare for the next test differently so you’ll get a better grade?” 

This would be a version of “yes, but,” expressed in a helpful, reassuring way.

A poor test grade is a disappointment but rarely does an irreparable damage.  It shouldn’t be that hard for you to reassure your child when that is the extent of what he did poorly.

What happens when he does some damage, chas v’shalom, that is tangible.  What if he broke something that cannot be repaired or replaced and now you will have to do without it?  Is that a time to say, yes, but, and offer chizuk?

How could that be?  If he breaks a lamp because he was running in the living room, am I supposed to say, “yes you broke the lamp but you are usually very careful and I’m sure you’ll be very careful again?”

Yes, I know it’s hard to imagine saying that to your child in that situation.  But, there’s a mashal in Chumash for which this situation is the nimshal.

The Torah tells us to give a treifa, the carcass of a mortally wounded animal, to the dog.  (Shemos 22:30) 

The Torah doesn’t say, l’kelev tashlichin osoh, give it to a dog.  The Torah says la’kelev, the dog.  To which specific dog does the Torah refer? 

The Chizkuni tells us that la’kelev means the dog that has been guarding the flock.  Yes, the dog that was guarding the flock when one of the flock was torn by a wolf; the dog that let the treifa happen.  That dog that just did poorly. 

The Daas Z’kainim m’Baalei HaTosfos explain as follows: Because the kelev risks its life for the torn one when the wolf comes to attack it, do not be k’faui tovah towards it.  When there is a treifa, give it to that dog in reward for the dog’s guarding until now and that the dog will guard others later.

Yes, the dog did poorly, but it has, and will again, do better.

The more you convey that kind of compassion, appreciation, and confidence towards your child, the better he will do.

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.