Rebbetzin Leah Gans
The Power of Self-Restraint
There are, of course, all kinds of situations. We are not always in control of ourselves. Suppose a mother comes home after a day at work and plunges into the routine. The homework is done; they have eaten, washed, played, and read, and now she is putting them to bed. Then it turns out that the little one is ill (G-d forbid)! Everything falls apart. She begins soothing the child, taking his temperature, and doing all her chores with him in her arms—she is on edge. Then the father comes home. That morning, they had agreed that he would buy baby food. “Did you buy it?” “I forgot!” That's it. This is the flashpoint. His wife will remind him of every time he has forgotten something, and he will certainly give as good as he gets… Sounds familiar, doesn't it?
What can we do? We need to use a powerful tool: the power of self-restraint. We can and must develop it and train it, just as we train our muscles.
We know how good children are at driving us up the wall. They know exactly where our sore spots are and how to press on them precisely when we are short of time, in a bad mood, and so on. It is very important to practice self-restraint and be patient in our interactions with children.
When we discussed punishments, we mentioned a situation in which a mother is deeply hurt by her child and cannot guide the child effectively. She can then either tell the child that they will talk later or ask the father to talk to the child while she calms down.
We also said that we do not punish in anger, because that is not a way to educate a child.
In light of what has been said, it becomes clear that a person overcome by anger is not in control of themselves and may therefore punish “with animal force,” disproportionately. Furthermore, a mother in a fit of anger does not look like a mother at all: unkempt, disheveled, a frightening snarl on her red face… Simply a monster rather than a mother. The child also perceives this as “an eruption of Mom's bad character traits,” meaning “these are her problems; they have nothing to do with my behavior.” As a rule, after such an outburst, the child remembers the mother's (or father's) terrible behavior and the words that were said, or remembers for a long time the physical violence the parent used in anger, since under normal circumstances the parent would never behave this way. Meanwhile, the reason for the angry outburst is often forgotten, so there was certainly nothing instructive in this for the child.
Furthermore, children learn from us by copying our behavior. They will therefore direct their angry outbursts at their younger brothers and sisters and their classmates (and later, G-d forbid, at their own children). Teachers will complain about the child's uncontrollable rage.
Rabbi Shimshon Pincus said: “Things come from the heart and enter the heart in the same way they came out. If they came out in anger, they will enter in anger.” In other words, if we try to teach a child something in anger (“teach them a lesson”), it will arouse nothing in them but anger.
Conversely, if children see that it hurts us to punish them (not to be confused with regretting the punishment), this will make a greater impression on them. Especially if we manage to show that, despite the bad behavior, the child remains loved and important to us.
There is a story about the Chofetz Chaim that was told to Rabbi Eliyahu Lopian by someone directly involved: the head of the council of a certain nonreligious settlement.
Although he was not religious, he treated those who studied Torah with great respect—and here is why:
When this man was still young, he wanted to enroll in the Chofetz Chaim's yeshiva in Radin. He was examined and his knowledge was found to be adequate, but there were problems with his outlook. When the Chofetz Chaim realized this, he firmly opposed admitting the young man to the yeshiva. “But the last train has already left! Where will I spend the night? Let me in for just one night!” the young man pleaded. The Chofetz Chaim would not agree to let him in even for one night. “But where can I spend the night?!” the young man persisted. “There is a room in my house; I will make up a bed for you there,” the rabbi replied. The young man came to the Chofetz Chaim's house, went into the room, and lay down in the bed that had been made for him. But he could not fall asleep because it was cold. At midnight he heard footsteps and pretended to be asleep. The young man saw the silhouette of the rabbi, who had gotten up to see how he was sleeping. Noticing that the room was cold, the Chofetz Chaim took off his fur coat and tucked it around the young man on all sides. Once warm, he quickly fell asleep.
The Chofetz Chaim did not want this young man to spend even one night under the roof of his yeshiva, so that the other students would not be led astray. But in his own home, he showed him so much warmth: he made up his bed himself and covered him with his own fur coat. That is why love for those who study Torah remained in this man's heart for the rest of his life, while resentment did not.
Difficult Times
There are certain periods when we are more likely to get angry. One such period is Erev Shabbat, Friday, the time before Shabbat begins. We all know that at this time Satan tries to take up residence in our home and set husband against wife and parents against children. Another difficult time is Motzaei Shabbat, the time at the close of Shabbat. This is a tense time, when the additional soul that was with us on Shabbat departs. This time is “designated for sorrows,” and the likelihood of an argument also increases.
Rabbi Yisrael Salanter said: “We must emulate the Almighty and create the cure before the illness. This means that a person must make every effort to avoid having to get angry.” We need to listen to ourselves. Everyone has tense periods when their ability to exercise self-restraint is tested more than on an ordinary day.
We must learn to sense mounting tension and recognize these periods. Then we must admit to ourselves that this is not the best time to sort out relationship problems, decide on punishments, or take any drastic steps. Once we realize this, we must draw on the power of self-restraint. Until the tension passes, we must not let up on the brakes. Imagine yourself driving downhill on a wet road; in this situation, good brakes are what matter most. Rabbi Shimshon Pincus said: “A man had a car. Everything was wonderful: it was shiny and even ran, but there was one problem—it had no brakes. Who would risk riding in a car like that?”
Furthermore, there are factors that affect how we feel, making us feel worse and consequently reducing our ability to cope in stressful situations.
A mother must take care of herself, especially a mother in a large family. She must remember to eat and not skip breakfast or lunch. It is important to get enough sleep! Physiological factors that we usually overlook can greatly reduce our resistance to stress, making us much more irritable than we ought to be.
An Inherited Trait
We inherited self-restraint from our forefather Abraham. When the Almighty tested him, he never asked, “why?” or “what have I done to deserve this?” He simply did what was required of him. We, the Jewish people, inherited this power of self-restraint. It is therefore present in all of us. We only need to develop it.
There is a story told about Rabbi Elyashiv's mother.
In those days, doing the laundry was an all-day process. Water had to be carried, heated, and poured into basins and tubs, and the laundry scrubbed on a washboard. Then more water had to be carried to rinse the laundry. After a whole day of washing, everything was hung on clotheslines stretched across the courtyard.
That day the courtyard looked something like this—snow-white and airy. The washed laundry fluttered in the wind. The woman who would become Rabbi Elyashiv's mother went inside to rest. Just then, her neighbor returned home. She envied the rebbetzin's diligence and now decided that someone else's laundry was blocking her way. Without a second thought, she cut the clotheslines. The freshly washed laundry fell into the mud, into puddles that had not yet dried. Holding her head high, the pleased neighbor went home.
When Chaya-Musha Elyashiv stepped into the courtyard a couple of hours later, she threw up her hands. The result of an entire day's work lay in the mud… She could have gone to quarrel with the neighbor, threatened to cut her clotheslines in return, and yelled at her to her heart's content to “feel better.” But this woman remained silent and did not even say a word to her husband. She gathered the laundry from the ground and went to fetch water to start washing all over again.
A few hours later, the frightened neighbor came running to her—her son had suddenly become seriously ill, and she begged the rebbetzin not to bear her a grudge and to forgive her. Chaya-Musha Elyashiv replied that she had not even thought of becoming angry or feeling hurt.
For a long time, she herself had been childless. It is said that in that same year she merited conceiving her only son—the future Rabbi Elyashiv.
Prepared by Mrs. Zissi Skarzhinskaya