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Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Identify an area where your particular efforts are needed, and then act on it. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute.  KAVOD Lesson #6 Kavod Internalizing Kavod Before we discuss how we should act toward others, we must first discuss how we should think of them.  It is not sufficient to merely show respect on the outside; we must truly feel that level of respect from within.  We can learn this lesson from the incredible words of the Chayai Adam regarding the mitzva of kibbud av va’aim , honoring your father and mother (k’lal 67).  He writes that the essence of the obligation of honoring one’s parents lies in one’s heart.  HaShem does not want us to merely put on a good show; He wants us to truly be people who think and feel in the elevated way of the Torah. On a practical level, when someone doles out kavod superficially, it can be discerned by the recipients.  Furthermore, every interaction we have with another person hinges on our attitude towards him.  It’s impossible that one who simply acts like he has respect will properly fulfill his obligation of kavod.  He will invariably slight others all the time without ever realizing it. Certainly, the more self-kavod we have, the more we can respect others.  If we are small and insignificant, then those around us can’t be that much greater.  If, however, we realize how so very important we are as Jews charged with a sacred mission, then we know how important the others around us are as well.  Each Jew is beloved by HaShem, despite any shortcomings he may have because of his tzelem Elokim, he was created in HaShem’s image.  This alone is more than worthy of respect. The Rambam writes that we should talk to others softly, with sweet and appeasing words.  Even if we have a worthwhile disagreement, we must be extremely careful to talk respectfully.  Imagine if this person was someone of great stature in the eyes of others, such as a famous Torah scholar or a governor.  Would you still raise your voice at him?  Whoever you are talking to is of great stature in the eyes of HaShem. How we talk to someone clearly conveys to him how we must respect him as a person.  We don’t talk to someone we admire in the same way we talk to someone we look down upon:  even our tone of voice is different. Often, we may be rude and disrespectful without even realizing.  For example, interrupting someone in mid-sentence shows that we do not value or have interest in what he has to say.  Rav Moshe Don Kestenbaum finds it touching when someone calls to speak to him and instead of immediately lapsing into conversation, he first asks, “Is now a good time for you?”  This shows we are in touch with and respect his needs. (Reproduced from Run After the Right Kavod by Rabbi Moshe Don Kestenbaum, with permission of the author and copyright holders, Israel Bookshop Publications). Story:  (based on a true story) My shopping cart was full as I turned the last corner to the checkout aisles.  I was talking to my mom on my cell phone as I shopped, and as I started emptying my cart I murmured a quick hello to the man checking out my groceries and went back to my conversation.  My mother heard me and asked me what was up, and when I told her, I got an earful. “Get off the phone!” she commanded me.  “You can call me back later.  There’s a human being on the other side of that checkout counter and you’re treating him like furniture.” I shut the phone and continued loading my groceries onto the belt, and I looked around.  Out of six aisles, four of the people checking out were on the phone.  The cashiers didn’t really seem to mind.  They just scanned the groceries and the baggers packed them.  This was today’s world, right?  I would be getting off the phone from now on because my mother told me to, but I kind of resented it. Later that week when I drove my regular afternoon carpool, I dropped off my friend Deborah’s son at their house as usual.  Deborah always came out to the car to greet her son and walk him in, and even though I only got to see her for a minute, sometimes it was the only time I saw her all week and she was the only adult I saw until my husband came home later that night.  We usually exchanged a quick “Hi!  How crazy was your day today?  Mine too.” That day, Deborah came to the car to get her son with her head hunched to the side, her phone tucked between her ear and her shoulder.  She waved to me quickly, smiled at her son and took his hand, and continued what sounded like an attempt to reach a doctor as they walked away. I went home feeling empty.  It seemed stupid; I had no idea that it was so important to me to exchange those few words with her and have that human contact, that genuine inquiry into how I was doing.  Because I knew Deborah, I knew that this call must have been a big deal or she wouldn’t have stayed on the phone.  She always went out of her way to greet and talk to others, she was the only mother who came out to meet her child at carpool, and she said hi to everyone else in the car.  I even got a phone call from her later that night apologizing for being on the phone when she came out earlier. I wondered what it must be like to have people walking by you with their carts every day, all day, giving just a half-hearted ‘hello’.  What’s it like when the only interaction is telling them “That’ll be $54.50” and

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Think about and interact with someone you see regularly but don’t usually acknowledge. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute. KAVOD Lesson #7 Kavod The Torah (Vayikra 19:18) obligate us:  “You should love your friend like yourself.”  The question begs to be asked:  How can the Torah expect us to reach such a high level? When we think about loving someone else, we tend to think of someone who is extremely fond of another person’s personality.  This is not the true ahava the Torah is talking about.  The Kotzker Rebbe teaches us that love for someone is not measured in terms of what we gain from him, but rather how much we care about him.  The more we care about him, the more we are willing to give. The perfect example of this love is the love a parent has for his child.  One might not be too crazy over his child’s personality, but he nonetheless loves his child with an intense love.  Usually, because of that love, the parent tends to find the good in his child’s personality, but that is certainly not the source of this love. Now we can understand the expectation of loving your neighbor like yourself.  True, we may not find everyone’s personality all that charming or compatible with our own, but we can still be expected to worry and care about their well-being.  Even if we don’t naturally have these feelings of concern for others, we can choose to care. “All Jews are responsible for one another” (Shavuos 39a).  If we feel this responsibility for others, we automatically will begin to care about them.  We can all work toward this kind of love, which will ultimately bring us to like others’ personalities as well.  When a person takes someone under his wing, he feels closer to him and therefore sees him in a better light.  He is considered like a brother, for the Jewish people are one big family. (Reproduced from Run After the Right Kavod by Rabbi Moshe Don Kestenbaum, with permission of the author and copyright holders, Israel Bookshop Publications). Story:  (based on a true story) The Feldman’s Shabbos table was always a great place to be.  I found myself there often as a single, observant young professional living in a town without any of my family.  They always made me feel at home. One Shabbos, I found myself seated next to Leah, the oldest daughter of the family.  She was just back from her seminary year and was looking for a fulfilling job in the mornings while she attended school at night.  I had a couple of ideas for her, and after I extended a general offer we began talking about where each of us had gone to school and where I was from. Quickly, though, I noticed that she shut down on me.  I found that every time I tried to start a conversation with her about any topic, she answered me in one or two word phrases and then turned herself to a conversation elsewhere.  Eventually I gave up and turned to talk to my favorite buddy, Yudi Feldman, age 7.  If Leah didn’t want the help of the only person at the table who was even close to her age and stage, or even to speak to me, that was her issue. Three weeks later, I got a call from Mrs. Feldman.  Leah had not found a job and remembered that I had offered to call a friend of mine at a local office for her.  Leah wanted to speak to me about it and had asked for my phone number or email. I was very surprised to hear that Leah was interested in anything I had to say or offer.  Mrs. Feldman heard my silence and told me she had noticed that Leah had been pretty cold to me at the meal.  She had been surprised, since from what she knew Leah and I actually had a lot in common in terms of interests and career goals, but figured Leah must not have been feeling well.  I agreed to help her out. Leah called and we spoke for a bit about what she was looking for.  Before agreeing to make the call for her, I decided to gently ask about that Shabbos meal and why she changed her mind about accepting my help.  She answered hesitatingly. “It was clear that we were really different people,” she said.  “I could just tell that we are in different circles based on where we went to school and how we dress, and I thought that your ideas might not be right for me.  But then, when I didn’t find anything, I thought I might as well try to check out your suggestions on my own.” I knew in that instant that I would not be calling my friend for Leah.  Not only had she discarded anything I might have to say based on what I wore and where I went to school, but she had stopped talking to me altogether.  I didn’t expect her to automatically accept everything I had to say.  Everyone has their own preferences and needs, both religiously and personality-wise, and it was fine with me if none of my ideas worked for her.  But if she didn’t want to pursue any of my leads, she could still have been polite. Even better would be to open herself up to see who I was and what strengths I might have, to include me in the conversations she had with others, to treat me as a full-fledged person who deserved to be treated respectfully.  There are few things that feel worse than being disregarded and ignored. I could not recommend someone who judged and behaved like that to work in my friend’s office.  I spent a minute deciding whether I wanted to help her at all or even talk to her again, so I decided to tell her

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Make an effort to talk pleasantly with someone you might not think you’d enjoy talking to. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute.  KAVOD Lesson #8 Kavod Respecting Children and Building Their Self-respect Our obligation to treat others with kavod is not limited to adults; it applies to children as well. Every child is a tzelem Elokim, created in God’s image, and a child of Hashem.  Some people are not in touch with the feelings of children. They will approach a three-year-old who doesn’t know them and expect an instant positive response. A child is a real person with real feelings. A person with respect and understanding of children’s feelings will approach cautiously from a distance and allow the child his space until he or she is ready to warm up.  You can learn a lot about one’s middos by watching how he interacts with children. A person with good middos possesses deep respect and love for mankind.  Furthermore, he is able to see things from the other person’s perspective.  He is able to understand another’s thought process, even when it differs from his own. These qualities enable this person to communicate effectively with children.  When we make a child feel good about himself, when we make a child happy and put a smile on his precious little face, we are doing just as big a mitzvah, if not bigger, as when we do the same for an adult. A person forms his initial self-image in his years of childhood. It’s a lot easier to build a positive image from the get-go than to have to repair a damaged self-image. Besides doing for our own children, we should take advantage of every opportunity to help other people’s children, our youngest members and future of klal yisrael.  There is a remarkable Chazal (Bava Metzia 87a) which explains that the reason the malachim asked Avraham Avinu, “Where is Sarah your wife?” was to endear Sarah to her husband. Here was arguably the greatest couple that ever lived and yet, the malachim still concerned themselves with looking to further elevate Sarah in Avraham’s eyes.  If the malachim deemed it worthwhile to point out Sarah’s qualities to Avraham, how much more so is it incumbent upon us to do the same for our family and friends?  Likewise, we should always look to praise children to their parents. Whose heart does not swell with pride when he hears his child being praised? As a rebbi of mesivta-age bachurim writes, “I more readily jump to call parents with a nachas report than with a negative report.  The nachas report comes back to the bachur, which undoubtable further encourages his growth.”  (Based on a true story) I ran across the house the grab the phone while trying not to drop the baby.  I got it on the fourth ring and heard, “Hi, it’s Morah Greenberg. Nothing’s wrong.”  I love when teachers do that.  It cuts your panic down just as it’s starting to rise up.  I quickly found that this was a nachas call for my eight-year-old.  Apparently, Shifra had volunteered to help clean up after a messy class art project and had done a beautiful job.  Morah Greenberg had decided to call me as soon as she got home from her morning at school so she wouldn’t forget.  I was grateful, and looked forward to greeting my cheerful helper girl when she came home later in the afternoon, but I found a very different child when she walked in the door.  “What can I eat? I want a Shabbos cupcake,” Shifra grunted as she tossed her backpack on the living room floor and plunked herself down at the kitchen table with a scowl. Clearly something was wrong. Was it the bus? One of her friends?  When I asked, all she said was, “School is stupid. I’m hungry.”  It all became clear when we took out her homework. Her afternoon teacher Mrs. Feldman had sent home a note saying that Shifra had been caught talking in class for the third time, which warranted a note home and an extra assignment.  “I’m not doing it,” Shifra said, as I tried to figure out how my by-the-rules daughter had gotten into this situation. She made quick work of her morning homework, refused to do any of her afternoon work, and stomped off. She remained surly all evening, so I waited until later that night at bedtime, and gently asked Shifra who she had been talking to. She burst into tears.  “Nobody!” she sobbed. “Only Layla, because she keeps talking to me and I keep telling her to stop! And then Mrs. Feldman says we’re both talking. And today she took us to the back of the class to tell us she was telling our parents and she talked so loud!”  My poor kid.  No wonder she wouldn’t do any of the work Mrs. Feldman had assigned, much less the extra work.  She no longer trusted her. Further prodding revealed that Shifra had twice tried to tell her teacher what was happening, but her explanation had been brushed aside the first time and the second time all she had said was “But…” before a stern look cut her off.  By the next evening I was speaking with Mrs. Feldman. I explained what Shifra had told me, and asked for her own point of view. Mrs. Feldman paused briefly and then said, “That may be true. I believe she tried to tell me that.” She paused for a minute, and then continued. “Either way, even if she was spoken to, she shouldn’t have talked back. And she certainly shouldn’t have contradicted me where the whole class could hear her; she could come ask me about it at recess. ”  Mrs. Feldman didn’t seem to be aware that she had scolded Shifra where the whole class could hear her, and that Shifra may not have remembered in that moment of

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Before you respond to something a child does, think about their perspective and what your goal is in speaking to them. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute. KAVOD  Lesson #9 Kavod Criticism Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me.”  This couldn’t be further from the truth.  Words are far more damaging than physical pain.  While compliments enable a person to feel happy with himself, insults do the exact opposite.  They cut through a person’s heart and soul, causing untold damage to his emotional well-being. Most of us will not physically attack another person out of anger.  We wouldn’t hit someone else simply because he upset us.  When it comes to words, though, it’s a different story altogether.  We can be pretty quick to lash into the person.  People don’t stop to contemplate the great pain they are inflicting on someone else with their sharp words.  If only they could see the blood dripping from their victim’s body, they would think twice before they opened their mouths. A great person once remarked that we have to be more careful with what comes out of our mouths than what goes into our mouths.  We must take great caution not to hurt another person’s feelings, to avoid causing even an indirect slight to his honor.  Chazal, our Sages, (Bava Metzia 58b) tell us that hurting someone with words is worse than cheating him financially. It really hurts to be criticized.  Therefore, we must think twice before we offer any criticism.  If we are unsure whether we ought to say something, we are safer keeping quiet.  Constructive criticism has a place, but one must know when and how to deliver it.  We especially have to be wary of criticism when it touches upon something the other person takes much pride in.  Such criticism attacks the core of the person’s self-respect, causing untold pain and damage.  His entire world is, in essence, pulled out from under his feet. For example, when someone comes over to you to share an insight in Torah, he is probably not seeking your opinion as much as he is looking for your respect.  A quick dismissal of his thoughts is robbing him of this opportunity.  If you have a question for him, wait a little.  First, try to sincerely appreciate his thought, and only afterwards gently ask your question. In a similar vein, we must be vigilant to avoid embarrassing someone else.  Chazal (Bava Metzia 58b) tell us that embarrassing a friend in public is tantamount to killing him.  The Maharal says that when one gives respect to his friend, he is giving him life.  We can imply from this that stripping someone of his honor is stripping him of life.  Embarrassment stems from loss of respect, so by embarrassing someone we have truly taken away his life. (Reproduced from Run After the Right Kavod by Rabbi Moshe Don Kestenbaum, with permission of the author and copyright holders, Israel Bookshop Publications). Story:  (based on a true story) I sat comfortably at my parents’ Shabbos (Sabbath) table, my husband and children and my parents and brothers completing the picture.  Earlier in the week, my oldest brother had come in to visit after completing his thesis on educational psychology, and occupied a proud place to my father’s left. We have always been a family full of discussions and debates, and our Shabbos Torah discussions were no different.  We all offered ideas that were praised, thoroughly dissected and refined.  Immediately afterward, my father turned to his left, and, beaming with pride, dramatically said, “Now, I’d like to hear from Josh, our future graduate.  Tell us about your work.”  Josh ducked his head a bit at the praise and began to give us a general summary of his work and results regarding the positives of tracking classes by learning level within middle school, and the plan he was helping to set up in the school where he worked.  I found it fascinating, and listened carefully, enjoying both the subject and the light of excitement in Josh’s eyes as he spoke. “So interesting and well-planned,” I said when Josh had finished, “but here’s the thing I don’t get.  How does this address the kids who aren’t obviously studious but would get pulled up by those around them when they’re in the same class?  Don’t they get sacrificed in this system?” Josh paused, and then gave me a carefully thought out answer.  I was about to ask further questions when I looked closer and saw that the light had gone out of his eyes.  My mother asked a follow up question that bolstered the ideas he had been working on, but the excitement level had clearly gone down. As I helped clear the main course, I realized what I had done.  I had asked a valid question, one that Josh had probably had to answer both in the development of his plans and while defending his thesis.  But Josh had not told us about his work to be questioned on it; he had done so to make his parents proud, and to show us what he had been working so hard on for all these years. But instead of letting that moment happen, I had caused the first response to his explanation to be critical.  The question might have worked had I appreciated his ideas at the table and then asked it respectfully later that night or the next day.  I also could have left it for another weekend.  After all, it’s not like I needed the answer right now. Yes, I had said it was interesting and well-planned, but I had committed the error of using the word “but”.  As my parenting class teacher always said, “It’s not a compliment if you use the word ‘but’.  You don’t say, ‘Good job cleaning up, sweetie, but you missed that corner’.  You say ‘Good job cleaning the

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Think about whether what you have to say will be felt as criticism, and if it needs to be said.  Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute. Lesson # 10 KavodMussar Although criticism must generally be avoided, there is a time when we are in fact obligated to point out someone else’s shortcomings.  The Torah (Vayikra 19:17) commands us, “You shall give rebuke to your friend.”  However, even then, we are obligated to give mussar in the nicest way possible.  There are two reasons why it is hard for a person to hear mussar.  Firstly, a person needs to feel good about himself.  He struggles to confront his imperfections.  Secondly, he desperately wants the respect of others.  He wants to be seen as perfect, or at least a near perfect person.  After telling us the mitzva of tochacha, the Torah concludes, “And one should not place the sin upon him.”  These words were once explained as follows:  One should not make the sin heavy upon him, placing the full weight of his actions upon him.  One shouldn’t say, “How could you have done such a terrible thing?”  Rather, one should gently bring up the wrongdoing and allow the person to realize on his own the severity of his action.  In this way, he won’t feel that you think less of him. In addition, we shouldn’t make the other person feel that his mistake has been consuming our mind.  Rabbi Daniel Kalish and many Gedolim, greats of earlier generations, bring out this idea beautifully from pesukim in Parshas Vayatzei.  When Yaakov Avinu meets the shepherds idling around the well, he first engages them in friendly conversation:  “My brothers, where are you from…?”  Only afterwards does he reprimand them for not working:  “There is still much time left in the day to work…” When the first thing we tell someone is words of criticism, he is likely to feel that this is what we’ve been thinking about, how we perceive him.  However, if we are in the middle of talking about something else and say, “By the way, I forgot to tell you…” it will be much easier for him to swallow our critique.  For this reason, when time is not an issue, we are better off waiting a few days. One can really hurt a person with inappropriate mussar.  He must not be lazy in considering how he can approach the issue in the most non-invasive way possible.  Otherwise, he has hurt someone else’s kavod for no reason.  The pasuk immediately following the mitzva of tochacha states (Vayikra 19:18), “Do not take revenge, do not hold a grudge, and you shall love your friend like yourself.”  The message is crystal clear.  Mussar should not stem from resentment; it must be delivered out of concern and care. (Reproduced from Run After the Right Kavod by Rabbi Moshe Don Kestenbaum, with permission of the author and copyright holders, Israel Bookshop Publications). Story:  (based on a true story) Twenty five years ago, I was a senior at Stern College searching out and chasing down recommendations for my graduate school applications.  I managed to get my department head and one of my favorite professors to agree to write a recommendation and was now up to gently reminding them to submit the letters, but had trouble deciding on who I should ask for the third letter.  My reminders became a bit stronger as each week went by past the promised dates. Once I finally realized which professor would be perfect based on advice from others applying to the same schools, it took me another two weeks to find the time to speak to him while he was at school (these were the days before email.)  He agreed but told me that others had asked before me and he had to finish theirs first, so it might be several weeks.  I was annoyed, mostly at myself, because Dr. Sternbach was known as one of the nicest, most caring and helpful human beings on earth in addition to being an expert in his field.  He had already helped me along and encouraged me over the past years, always with a smile or serious, caring eyes.  So I thanked him and hoped that his nature would speed him up a bit, as my deadlines were looming.  Somehow in my head, I convinced myself that Dr. Sternbach would rush my letter, so when I finally received my other two letters after a week and a half and was itching to send my applications, I approached Dr. Sternbach and asked if he might have my letter almost ready, as I really needed to move along and I was only waiting for his letter.  I sort of knew I was out of line to pressure him and hold him to my personal deadline when he had advised me otherwise, but I felt desperate.  The response I received is one I still remember, twenty five years later, mostly for the look on Dr. Sternbach’s face. “It is not right for you to speak like this,” he said calmly and carefully, with those serious eyes taking me to task gently and without anger.  “I never promised you what you are asking, although I see that you are anxious and will get it to you as soon as I can.  Please be more careful next time.”  And then he moved on. I had treated Dr. Sternbach incorrectly and he had called me on it.  Most people would probably say nothing but be annoyed about it and possibly hold it against me, even if it was unconsciously.  But he wanted me to do better.  And, I desperately wanted him to see me as the accomplished student I always felt I was in his class, not as I felt at that moment. It took me many years to realize the amazing tochacha I had been given.  I still received a smile when I passed

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Before rebuking someone for a misdeed, take time to remind yourself of the respect you have for this person and how you can help best. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute. KAVOD Lesson #11 Kavod Humor It’s a wonderful midda to have a sense of humor.  We can bring so many people joy with our upbeat spirit and wit.  It is healthy for a person to find humor in life’s situations, and it is beneficial to relationships to be able to smooth things out with a good sense of humor.  Yet, we should never find humor at the expense of someone else. A Tanna mentioned in the gemara, Bar Kapara, possessed a fantastic sense of humor and was known for pulling off humorous antics (see Nedarim 51a).  Yet, we find him getting upset when one talmid laughed at another for making the wrong bracha first (Brachos 39a).  The lesson is clear:  There is nothing funny at someone else’s expense. We must train ourselves to develop a Torah-dik sense of humor.  We can actually see somebody slip on a banana peel and not find it funny.  We can be in a room filled with people laughing at someone and find it repulsive.  Of course there are innocent jokes, but we must be very careful with our words.  Very often, a seemingly innocent story or witty remark can violate serious transgressions of lashon hora, even when the subject of the story is not upset that it was said. If we are not sure whether a remark is appropriate, we should err on the side of caution, not humor.  This can be quite a nisayon when we have a really good punchline, but our reward in holding back will be quite worthwhile. In any situation we find ourselves in, we should look to provide encouragement and chizuk to others, and be ever so careful not to hurt their feelings.  We should utilize our sense of humor to cheer people up or simply to put a smile on their faces.  This is the greatest form of simcha available to us- to lift the hearts of others. (Reproduced from Run After the Right Kavod by Rabbi Moshe Don Kestenbaum, with permission of the author and copyright holders, Israel Bookshop Publications). Story:(based on a true story) My oldest daughter Shira recently became a vegetarian.  During the week, I may be the only person who really notices because she eats later when she gets home from school, but on Shabboses and at Sunday night dinners, its front and center.  She has specific foods she makes for herself and turns down dishes she used to beg me to make not long ago. For some reason, my husband and next oldest daughter think this is hilarious.  Months after Shira’s announcement, Tammy will still respond to Shira’s passing the chicken platter on by saying, “Nothing with a face, right?”  My husband regularly follows up with something like, “I wonder if she’d eat a watch.  It has a face.”  They then might move on to whether vegetarians who eat fish would eat grasshoppers if we knew which were kosher, and asking Shira if she’s learned to love beans yet, since she always used to hate them and that’s got to make vegetarianism a weird choice.  Shira sometimes plays along and sometimes just ignores it all. After a Sunday night barbeque during which Shira ate grilled eggplant while her father and sister told her how grateful they are that at least she’s normal enough to eat eggs, Shira retired quietly to her room and didn’t come out for hours.  When I went in to check on her, she quickly shut her cell phone and turned her tear-stained face away from me.  With a little prodding, she opened up. “I said lashon hora about Daddy,” she said.  “I told Rachel what he said about not eating eggs being not normal.  I know I shouldn’t have, but he and Tammy get me so mad!” Rachel is Shira’s best friend, who has taken the vegetarian journey with her and who does not eat eggs or dairy.  I had a feeling that comment would hit Shira wrong, and had already spoken to Tammy and to my husband about it. “They’re always so mean!” she continued.  “Why does the way I eat have to be funny?  Why can’t I just do it, and not make any trouble for anyone?  Why can’t people see it as a good thing that I’m doing something I believe in, even if it’s hard?  And it’s so much harder not to eat the sesame beef when Tammy giggles and asks me if I’m sure I don’t want it.  It’s like they think it’s stupid and I’m stupid for doing it and so are my friends.” The truth is that I’ve been talking to Tammy about this for a few weeks already.  Her jokes tend to skew a bit mean.  My husband tends to stay more playful, and I figured that Shira should be able to take a little bit of playful ribbing, as many of us often do based on various choices we make.  It was clear now that Shira did not think any of this was funny or playful.  Any silly discussion stemming from her food choices hurt her deeply, even if there were no hurtful intentions at all. By the time Shabbos rolled around, we had made a change.  After I explained to Tammy more about how her comments were hurtful instead of just telling her not to make them, she asked me to help her stop.  By the end of the Friday night meal, my brief pointed looks across the table had helped her keep her mouth shut and earn her extra allowance. I had to shoot a few similar looks at my husband, but he didn’t need the reward–just the reminder.  He used his humor to bring the kids into a parsha discussion

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Before you say something funny, consider whether it may hurt anyone. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute. KAVOD Lesson #12 Kavod Communication and Grudges “Do not hate your brother in your heart; give rebuke to your friend” (Vayikra 19:17).  The Rambam (Hilchos Da’os 6:6) understands that these two mitzvos are connected.  Do not hate your brother in your heart; rather, you should approach him and ask him why he did something to upset you.  This will afford him the opportunity to explain himself and/or ask forgiveness. Part of the responsibility is not only to effectively communicate, but to allow the other person to communicate, without getting angry at him for sharing his feelings.  If someone is afraid to share their feelings, he or she will be forced to bottle resentment. Often, we may be able to come up with a clever way of pointing out the issue without hurting the other person’s feelings.  We must always take the time to consider how we can approach the subject in the most delicate fashion before we freely express our complaints.  We cannot be lazy at the expense of someone else’s feelings. This is reminiscent of the following halacha (Ramabam, Hilchos Retzicha 1:13):  If one sees someone chasing another person to kill him, he is obligated to stop the pursuer, even if it means taking the pursuer’s life.  However, if he can stop him, i.e. he can shoot him in the leg, he is forbidden to kill him. Often we may feel, “Why should I have to tell the other person what he did wrong?  If he can’t figure it out himself, something is wrong.”  Such thoughts stem from immaturity and stubbornness.  One must yield to approach the subject, regardless of whether the other person should have come to it on his own.  It’s better to humble yourself and ask for what you want than to hold a grudge for not getting it. (Reproduced from Run After the Right Kavod by Rabbi Moshe Don Kestenbaum, with permission of the author and copyright holders, Israel Bookshop Publications). Story:  (based on a true story) For months I had been planning to fly to my parents’ in New York with my husband and kids for the long Memorial Day weekend.  We were looking forward to some quality time with my parents, who we rarely see in person.  My parents planned a whole series of activities to maximize their time with their across-the-country grandchildren. We were waiting for our luggage in Kennedy Airport on Thursday night when my phone rang.  It was my sister Debra, welcoming me to the east coast where she lived as well, although she lived a two hour drive away from our parents.  Then she asked what time we thought we’d get to my parents.  I told her, and asked her why. “We thought we’d join you!” she said.  “We haven’t seen you in ages, and we thought it would be fun to see Mommy and Daddy when we’d all be together.  So we’re coming!” Too many thoughts ran through my head.  I knew that Debra and her family spent last Shabbos with my parents, but my mother had a policy never to refuse a child who wants to visit.  I knew we flew across the country specifically to maximize the time each of our children had with their grandparents, and that Debra knew this might be our only trip this year.  I knew that Debra had five kids, and that my parents had two bedrooms besides their own, which were supposed to go to me, my husband and the baby and to my other three kids. “Don’t worry about the beds,” Debra said, seemingly reading my mind.  “You and Daniel take one, and Judah and I will take the other.  And the kids can have a big sleepover on the basement floor!  It’ll be tight, but they’re cousins!”  I had no words, and so I said nothing.  She and her family were already twenty minutes away from my parents’ house and would be there when we arrived.  Nothing I said could change the situation, so I told her I would see her soon. The visit was a whirlwind of craziness.  None of my kids slept at all, because sharing a sleeping space with their cousins didn’t allow them to indulge their jetlag.  Many of the activities we had planned were cancelled because we were now too large a group.  And my kids felt left out with so many other people competing for their grandparents’ attention. By Saturday night I was a wreck, saying things I hope I never hear my children say at all, much less about their own siblings.  My husband suggested that I talk to my sister and explain why I was upset, so this wouldn’t happen again.  He also hoped it would help me not to feel so angry, which wasn’t good for me in and of itself.  But I couldn’t.  A person who could pull a move like this either didn’t care about my feelings or didn’t have a clue as to why there would be an issue and didn’t stop to think about it.  There was no point in my going to her; nothing would change. My husband suggested again a week later that I speak to her.  He conceded that in the moment I might have been too upset and it wasn’t the right time, but after a week I could clear the air.  I refused, and refused again a month later.  She needed to figure out what she did and come to me.  I stewed in my anger for five months, talking pretty words on the phone with her while feeling ugly ones, until my brother in New York made a bar mitzva.  I flew in on my own, and while the men were in shul Debra began talking about the “wonderful” weekend we’d had. Before I knew it, I exploded

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Discuss a concern you have with someone in a productive way, with extra planning toward being respectful. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute.  KAVOD Lesson #13 Kavod Honoring Parents – Kibbud Av Va’Eim The fact that honoring one’s parents is one of the Ten Commandments clearly testifies to the profound importance and severity of this mitzva.  Chazal tell us (Sota 49b) that in the days preceding Mashiach, “chutzpa will be rampant.  The young will shame the old…”  We understand this phenomenon too well.  Our children say things to us that we never would have dreamed of saying to our parents.  Yet we must look at ourselves and ask if we are treating our parents the way we should.  The higher the level we are on, the higher the level the next generation after us will be.  Our children certainly take notice of how we treat and talk about our parents. Our obligation of kibbud av va’eim extends beyond our birth parents.  We are obligated to honor our in-laws as well.  We have much reason to be grateful to them.  They brought our spouse into the world.  Another set of parents we are obligated to honor is step-parents.  The pasuk (verse) (Shemos 20:12) says, “Kabed es avicha v’es imecha-Honor your mother and father.”  Chazal (Kesubos 103a) expound that the first extra word “es” includes a stepfather, while the second includes a stepmother.  Kibbud av va’eim is not limited to the way we interact with our parents or how well we take care of them.  It’s about developing true respect for them.  How great are the words of the Chayei Adam (klal 67), who writes that the essence of the obligation of honoring one’s parents is in one’s heart.  This does not seem like an easy task.  Often, those who struggle the most to respect their parents are those who feel their parents aren’t good to them.  If they carry resentment towards their parents then they don’t respect them, despite their accomplishments.  How can we be expected to feel respect for our parents if we don’t think of them as outstanding individuals?  One excellent idea is that one should focus on his parents’ strongest midda.  For example, focus on your father’s honesty or your mother’s generosity.  Find something that each one excels at and focus on it. The Sefer HaChinuch (mitzva 33) writes that mitzva of kibbud av va’eim was given to inculcate in us the midda (attribute) of hakaras hatov, gratitude for the good done for us.  To paraphrase his poignant words:  “From the roots of this mitzva is that one should recognize and repay kindness to someone who does good for you, and not be a base person to deny the good…That a person should take to heart that his father and mother are the reason for his existence, and therefore it is fitting for him to do every honor and benefit for them possible.  Furthermore, they exerted so much effort into him in his youth.  When a person internalizes this character trait in his heart, he will come to recognize the good of HaShem (G-d), for He is the cause of his and all his forefathers’ existence.” (Reproduced from Run After the Right Kavod by Rabbi Moshe Don Kestenbaum, with permission of the author and copyright holders, Israel Bookshop Publications). Story:  (based on a true story) I spent a lot of my life feeling disconnected from my father.  We had played games and laughed together through my early childhood, but starting from when I hit my teen years, I first decided he was embarrassing, and then I was convinced he was clueless and frivolous.  Then I resigned myself to knowing that he didn’t understand me but he was doing what he thought was best, and had lived a pretty cool life so far. Finally, in my adult years, I settled into a headspace in which my dad was full of life and happiness, truly dedicated to HaShem, and a great person who would do anything for me, but also had some habits and ways that I didn’t want to inherit or pass on. In theory, that sounds like a pretty typical way of thinking-you appreciate your parents for what and who they are, and choose the parts of them you want to perpetuate and those you want to leave to them.  In practice, I often let the things that bothered me overwhelm what should have been my unlimited respect and appreciation for his gifts and all he’d done for me. Dad told my kids jokes and stories I didn’t appreciate.  When the kids were still really little, I just brushed them off, but as they grew old enough to understand and repeat them, I grew resentful.  I regularly spoke to him as respectfully as I knew how and asked that he please not tell those jokes and stories with the kids around.  He always agreed to refrain but then forgot to stop himself until afterwards.  I was annoyed that I had to deal with this.  Who wants to be upset with their father for making his grandkids laugh? I was annoyed when whole Shabbos meals went by with no words of Torah because my kids were all busy having fun with my dad away from the table.  He also had table manners I had copied as a kid and spent years trying to refine afterwards.  I made the mistake of asking him to refrain from a few in my home, and he became offended and told me that everyone in my family needed to lighten up.  So I said nothing when I worked hard for an entire visit, the kids had said goodbye to their grandparents, and then my dad  decided he was enjoying himself so much that they would stay another day or two.  Inside I fumed. I got my father the special foods he liked.  I made sure his bed was comfortable.  I responded to his email forwards

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Overlook a negative act or trait in a parent or elder and focus on a positive one instead. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute. KAVOD Lesson #14 Kavod Teaching Students – We Are All Teachers The mishna in Avos (4:12) tells us, “The honor of your student should be as dear to you as your own.” There are two basic reasons why kavod is imperative to students’ success.  First, since self-esteem is so critical and vital to one’s success in life, both spiritual and material, we have an obligation to give them kavod in order to help them achieve self-esteem. Rabbi Daniel Kalish once pointed out that the first mishna in Pirkai Avos says, “Stand up a lot of students.”  It does not say, “Teach a lot of students.”  Part and parcel of a teacher’s obligation and responsibility is to give his students confidence, and to stand them up into secure and confident b’nai Torah.  When a teacher believes in his student, the student will see himself through the eyes of his teacher and begin to believe in himself. Second, if teachers want their students to be motivated to learn from them, they need to treat them with kavod.  People only like those who treat them with respect.  A child is more likely to perform better for a teacher whom he likes.  Although teachers should not be constantly focused on winning their students’ favor, nonetheless they should certainly treat their students in a manner conducive toward generating a very positive relationship.  When dealing with students, Chazal (Sotah 47a) tell us, “One should always push away with the left and bring close with the right.” Rabbi Kalish often says that when he sees a class that gets along well, he credits it to the teacher.  A good teacher builds each of his students, and knows how to point out each one’s strengths.  When the other students see how their beloved teacher values and respects each student, they too begin to value and respect each other.  Furthermore, if a teacher treats all his students like his children, they automatically become united under their shared parent.  When they feel united as a family, they will treat each other with more kavod.  We naturally stand up for the honor of our family members and those closest to us. The same idea applies to parenting.  Parents who treat each and every one of their children with love and kavod are likely to have children who are close to one another.  They will have love and respect for one another following their parents’ lead.  They will not be jealous of each other because each one is secure with his special place.  They are united by their beloved leaders, their dear mother and father. We can take this idea one step further.  When we treat our fellow Jews with kavod, we are creating achdus, unity, among K’lal Yisrael.  What divides us is when we think and speak negatively of one another.  The second Bais HaMikdash (Temple) was destroyed and never rebuilt because of the hatred and negativity that exists between fellow Jews.  Through our efforts in spreading kavod and achdus, may we speedily merit the redemption in our days. (Reproduced from Run After the Right Kavod by Rabbi Moshe Don Kestenbaum, with permission of the author and copyright holders, Israel Bookshop Publications). Story:  (based on a true story) I still remember how that first moment felt.  I walked into our monthly women’s shiur (Torah class) and took my usual seat.  As I searched my purse for a pen, I felt someone sit down next to me, and looked up to say hello or to introduce myself.  And there she was:  It was Rachel. I hadn’t seen Rachel in almost ten years.  I met her while I was in graduate school; we had most of our classes together for two years and often had lunch and studied together.  She was about my age and Jewish as well, but only minimally connected to her Judaism, and had been fascinated by my being married with two kids by the age of twenty three.  Aside from school work, our talk often centered on our families and the way we celebrated holidays, and on my style of dress, my wig, and my kosher rules, which she saw as too confining for her but interesting.  Now here was Rachel, sitting next to me at my shiur, wearing an artfully tied colorful headscarf and a bohemian skirt and sweater and reaching into her handbag for a tanach (bible). After the shiur and a joyful hello hug, Rachel explained that she had become observant five years earlier and had just moved back to the US from Israel.  She had studied in an Israeli school for women returning to their roots and had eventually met her new husband, who had done the same.  I wanted to know how it had all started. “After grad school, I got a job in an Orthodox high school,” she told me.  “I worked there for a few years, and everyone was so nice to me.  I got the Purim baskets like the religious teachers, and the students explained the Hebrew words and the customs.  The principal was wonderful to me and I learned so much from her about Judaism and about my job.  And one of the teachers even taught me how to say brachos (blessings) over food when I asked about them.  I remembered that you used to say them too and have me answer “Amain”, so it wasn’t so scary.  I liked the gratitude of it.” I did remember Rachel being very into gratitude.  I had strengthened my own hakaras hatov (recognition of the good I received) through talking to her over the years; she was particularly amazing in her respect for her parents and grandparents.  She hadn’t seemed so interested in brachos at the time; it was more like she was humoring me.  But, I guess, something