Rebbetzin Leah Gans
Everything we have discussed is the minimum required. But we can go one step further in working on our character traits and on peace in our home. This is somewhat difficult to do, but still.
We need to praise and appreciate our husbands for their efforts when they ask for forgiveness.
That is, not only accept the apology as we said above, but also praise him for the way he offered it, and say how much we appreciate that he was able to apologize after all, despite how difficult it is for him. We can say that his apology healed the wound. This is quite difficult, but if we want to invest in peace in our home, this is the right path. Here, as on the road: do not be right; be smart.
We must remember how important it is to keep an argument to one subject and bring it to an end, without delving into history or recalling past hurts. One argument—one subject. As it says in Tehillim (79:8): "Do not remind us of the sins of our forefathers (the earlier sins); may Your mercy hasten to meet us, for we have been brought very low."
The time of reconciliation is an et ratzon, a time of favor, and an opportunity to grow even closer.
If, at the moment our husband apologizes, we begin to feel sorry for ourselves—"Yes, he really did hurt me! How miserable I am!"—we will create a feeling of revulsion within him that will only push a person away (him or anyone else in a similar situation). The husband has asked for forgiveness, but instead of reconciliation, it is as though this has taken his wife backward, and she relives her pain and feels increasingly sorry for herself. In this way, she will spoil the moment of reconciliation and fail to use it to strengthen her Jewish home. It is like two people holding opposite ends of a rope. At some point, the rope breaks, and to repair it, the broken pieces must be tied together. This makes the rope shorter. Likewise, people who have been tested by an argument and come through it become even closer.
I remember that during the week of our "Sheva Brachot," my aunt, who was a widow, came to visit. The first thing she asked was, "Well, have you had an argument yet?" Bewildered, we replied, "But we have only just gotten married!" She answered, "Until you have had an argument, it is not real. Argue, make up, and then your union will become real." I remember laughing at this then, but over the years I came to understand the truth of her words.
What to do when saying "I have forgiven you" is sometimes not enough.
Saying these words is one thing, but achieving true forgiveness within ourselves can remain elusive. In his book "Pirkei Machshavah," Rabbi Tauber tells a wonderful story. The Skulener Rebbe was a holy man who devoted himself to the mitzvah of "redeeming captives." His work consisted of raising money in America to ransom Jews from prison in Romania. In the process, he faced great danger. Through roundabout channels, he transferred money to Romania and saved many Jews from death. One day, it became known that one of the emissaries he had appointed had broken their agreement and stolen the money raised, keeping it for himself instead of ransoming the Jew for whom the funds had been collected. The Rebbe was so distressed by what had happened that he became ill and was hospitalized. The Rebbe's son, who stayed with him in the hospital in case his help was needed, found his father pacing up and down the hospital corridor at night. When asked why he was not sleeping, his father replied that he could not recite the bedtime "Shema." "It says there that I forgive and pardon anyone who has offended and hurt me. But since I feel unable to forgive the Jew who betrayed my trust and ruined the mission entrusted to him, stole the money I had raised, and because of whom a Jew remained in prison and in danger, I cannot finish reciting the 'Shema.' After all, I cannot lie and say that I have forgiven him! On the other hand, going to sleep without saying, 'I hereby forgive…' is also absolutely out of the question. So until I manage to overcome myself and forgive him after all, I will not go to sleep!" said the Skulener Rebbe.
Here is the image of a true Jew!
It is told that a certain Jew offended one of the great sages of Israel. When he came to apologize, the rabbi said, "I cannot right now. Come back in two weeks." At the appointed time, he returned and received complete forgiveness. He then asked the rabbi why he had needed those two weeks. What had changed? The rabbi replied that he himself had needed those two weeks to work on himself and forgive wholeheartedly, rather than merely say the words.
Another benefit for someone who knows how to forgive.
It is known that a person who has been hurt and has forgiven will be spared many troubles. There are many stories of a Jew who was in great danger and was advised by a rabbi to find someone who had been offended but had remained silent, and to ask for that person's blessing. This would help him escape trouble.
One such story is told about a student of the Alter of Slabodka who offended another student. The offense was so serious that he could not muster enough courage to go and ask for forgiveness. He asked the Alter of Slabodka himself to go and apologize on his behalf. The Alter agreed, went to the injured student, and asked for forgiveness on behalf of the offender. Once the student had forgiven him, the Alter said, "I have one more request of you. Bless me." The young man was very surprised: "What could my blessing add to a great teacher of mussar?" The Alter replied, "After all, it is written: someone who forgives is forgiven all his sins. My sins have not been forgiven, but yours have. Now you are righteous, holy, and pure, and I ask you for a blessing." The young man remained embarrassed and mumbled for a long time, but the rabbi would not let him go until he had given him a blessing.
The book "Adraba" contains many stories about forgiveness.
One of them is about a young man in a yeshiva and a cleaning woman. The cleaning woman brought her small children to work so that she could look after them herself. One of the students decided to reprimand her: "Your children are very disruptive! They fool around and misbehave. We cannot study in peace. Please come without the children next time." The woman was tired and worn down by life, so she replied with all her bitterness: "Without children? Then you go without children!" And with that, they parted. This young man had not demanded quiet for no reason—he was one of the best students, and in time he married a fine young woman. 20 years passed, but they still had no children. He and his wife went to the best doctors in Israel and abroad, but none of the doctors could identify a problem: both were healthy, and physically there was nothing wrong. Then one of his friends remarked in passing: think about whether you might have offended someone and failed to ask for forgiveness. He thought for a long time and finally remembered this incident. Then he carried out a thorough investigation to find that cleaning woman and came to her with a sincere, tearful plea for forgiveness. She said that of course she had forgiven him and that he should not be so distraught over words that had slipped out. That same year, they were blessed with their first child!
Anyone who puts effort into asking for forgiveness and into forgiving wholeheartedly is truly building worlds!
Everything is in our hands. Although these may seem like small things, truly forgiving requires work on ourselves, and a great deal of it. Our Jewish home only benefits from the effort we put into this work.
Prepared by Mrs. Zissi Skarzhinskaya