My Child, My Teacher

"Hit him back," I tell my little boy. "If he fights with you, just hit him back."

It's all wrong. It's not what I'm supposed to be telling him. It's not what the parenting books say. But someone is picking fights with him, and I know he won't stop as long as my little boy allows it. As long as he doesn't do anything to defend himself.

"I don't fight," he says.

"You're not fighting. He is. You're just defending yourself. Just kick him when he comes near you. Just to keep him away."

It's sounding all wrong. The parenting experts would be horrified.

"I can't kick him," he says quietly. "I'm afraid I'm going to hurt him."

"But...but...he's hurting you!"

"I can't," he says again. "I can't hurt people."

I look at him, as though seeing him for the first time.

I can't hurt people....

I hug him. And I am ashamed of myself.

There are moments when a seemingly insignificant incident reveals a profound insight about a person's character. This is one of those moments.

I learned who my little boy is. I learned something about his deepest self. I learned that not only do I love him, but I admire and respect him. I learned that there is so much he can teach me. I learned that he is not only my child, but also my teacher.

My little boy is growing up. Today he is a child with a sensitive soul. A child who can't hurt people. A child I am so proud of. With Hashem's help, he will grow to be a sensitive adult. An adult who will not hurt people. An adult I will be proud to know.

Do it your way, my little boy. I am honored to be your mother.