“I’m sorry for yelling at Mommy and Daddy.”
“I’m sorry for having a messy room sometimes and leaving my things around the house.”
“I’m going to help the quiet girl in my class.”
As I mentioned in Monday’s post, we are in the 10-day period that is considered in Judaism to be the holiest days of the year. One concrete ritual that we do is perfect for children (as well as adults). We take bread to a moving body of water and symbolically toss our sins into the water with the breadcrumbs. This year, I got to watch and listen as three cute little people mentioned things they regretted doing and what intentions they have for moving forward. The idea of the ritual is that the sins are literally carried away and we can start anew. So much of what the kids said made me put my hand to my heart and smile.
Sitting in the children’s service earlier that day, trying to calm my very upset daughter, I realized how many preconceptions I have about what it means to raise a child to follow your example. There is much emotion tied up in raising our children!
I would love to know your thoughts about this. As you read below, think about how you would answer these questions:
- Whether inside a faith tradition or not, how do you impart your values and expectations to your children and grandchildren?
- And when they don’t act as you’d expect, then what???
And I do realize that I’m probably overthinking this as usual.
When I am inside any synagogue, I feel linked to the generations that came before me, to the hands that built the Temple I am sitting in, and to the generations who will hopefully follow. I am a descendent of the very people who sent a high priest to enter the Holy Temple in Jerusalem thousands of years ago every year during this time. I am part of a people who has been enslaved and freed from slavery, who has wandered and been found, and who has lost millions of lives while preserving human dignity and tradition. I am a piece of Divine Truth and Justice. I collect wisdom from rabbis who lived thousands of years ago and from the ones I know today.
I have huge responsibilities. We each do. I must help care for the earth and those living here. I must spread ideas of peace, conflict resolution, and harmony. I must do my part to feed and clothe the too many who are without basic needs and who get overlooked. I must work toward a future of equality and opportunity for everyone. I must educate, advocate, and never stop learning. I take it all seriously.
Even more, raising a child to feel those connections and to feel that sense of responsibility is the most important task I’ve undertaken. Before our daughter was born, Mr. B and I talked all about our ideals and wishes for her and about what type of home we would have to model and carry out our values. We talk with her about our values as we do good things for people and explain why we don’t do other things. We read books with moral messages, observe the holidays, and light Shabbat candles. We are part of a larger community.
I assume that I am the way I am because of the home that I grew up in and the values of my parents. It seems natural for that same tendency to continue into the next generation. And so much of what we do is for the benefit of our daughter as much, if not more, than for ourselves. She enjoyed making a honey cake for the holiday with me and took pride in setting the table for our dinner guests. She fell asleep talking with me about aspects of the holiday.
So what happened? She was so preoccupied with the idea that she was going to sit with a particular friend during the children’s service that she couldn’t focus at all on anything else. And when that friend arrived with extended family and they couldn’t join us where we were sitting, sweet girl just lost it. She could not calm down.
I understand she is just 6. Still, I was so disappointed in her behavior because it showed me that she had little understanding of the meaning of the holiday and how important it is. We drove her home afterwards, trying to explain, yet she refused to hear us. I returned to the adult service. When I got home later, she and Mr. B had talked it through and she told me she was very sorry.
I explained to her that I hold her to a much higher standard than I realized, and yet I don’t apologize for it. There is certain behavior that we expect of her. We observe holidays just as generations before us did. We read sacred texts. The prayers that cross our lips have been uttered for thousands of years. I asked her who she thinks she is to abandon and disrespect that. (Fortunately, Mr. B translated whatever I said into something she would relate to.)
We go to synagogue (or church or the mosque) to connect with God and to reflect on how we can become better people. We don’t go with the focus of catching up with a friend. On such an important day especially, surrounded by hundreds of people, we don’t make a scene.
And yet… those simple intentions tossed out with the bread crumbs by her little hand warm my heart and give me reassurance that she is taking in the important things. She knows right from wrong. She is kind to others. She has a sense of wonder. The rest may take care of itself.
It seems such a large responsibility to raise the next generation to follow in our footsteps. It does not happen by default. Whether inside a faith tradition or not, how do you impart your values and expectations to your children and grandchildren? And when they don’t act as you’d expect, then what???
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