Rabbi Peretz Chen | What compliment do our children not need to hear? - Special for Rosh Hashanah

00:00 Hello, everyone. How much money would you be willing to spend for your children to be happy, to feel good, to have a good life? We’re ready to give them everything we have—and even everything we don’t have. But in today’s lesson, with Hashem’s help, we’ll learn about something that can give them so much as they build their character and their future, and develop their self-confidence. And it doesn’t cost even one shekel. Today we’ll talk about compliments. We’ll hear a powerful story about what a compliment can do—how it can change a person from one extreme to the other. We’ll also see that the approaching holiday of Rosh Hashanah contains an enormous compliment for every one of us. And then—and this is the main point of the lesson—we’ll look at what makes a good compliment. What kind of compliment should we give so that it helps someone grow and build for the future? Because there are also kinds of compliments that are better left unsaid. I’d be very glad if you’d comment on what we discuss here. Tell me what you think and share your tips about compliments, so we can all learn from one another. Now, this story happened a few years ago, when I was the homeroom teacher for a class of what you might call challenging teenagers—students who hadn’t succeeded in various other settings and had come to study with us. It was my first year teaching boys like these. There was one boy in the class with an innocent face, the face of an angel. But if he wanted to, he could turn a lesson upside down, turn the classroom upside down, and overturn everything the teacher had imagined doing in that lesson. One day, the school counselor called him over. We’re talking about a student in ninth grade, right?

02:10 Not a little boy. The school counselor called him over and said, “Yosef”—his name was Yosef Chaim—“Yosef Chaim, please go to the grocery store across the street and buy me a carton of milk.” Yosef Chaim said, “Sure, no problem.” It’s always nice to get to go outside. The counselor gave him a ten-shekel coin. Yosef Chaim went to the store and came back with a carton of milk and the change from the ten shekels. The counselor said, “Yosef Chaim, thank you very much. You went out of your way for me; you made the trip. Keep the change. Enjoy it. Buy yourself something with it.” Yosef Chaim said to the counselor, “Listen, that change isn’t mine. It’s yours, right? Why should I take something that isn’t mine?” The counselor was delighted to hear that. Coming from this particular student, those words were a bit of a surprise. He said, “Thank you very much. That’s fine.” Afterward, the counselor called me over and said, “Listen, something very interesting happened here—something really out of the ordinary.” He told me exactly what had happened with the change from the carton of milk, and then, in his great wisdom, said, “Make a big deal of it in class.” Okay. The next morning, the students were sitting in class, and I said, “Students, I want to tell you an amazing story, the kind of story that doesn’t happen every day.” I told them about a student who had been sent to buy a carton of milk and had come back with the change. The counselor had told him to keep it, but this student, with his remarkable honesty, had said, “I don’t take what isn’t mine.” As I spoke, I could see Yosef Chaim sitting there, looking around, not knowing where to put his eyes. I could see that the story

04:01 was doing something to him. Of course, he recognized immediately that it was about him. Then I said to them, “Do you know who that student is? It’s Yosef Chaim, sitting here with us in this classroom.” Yosef Chaim blushed so deeply. He was moved and kept changing color; he was so emotional. The lesson ended, and the next lesson began. Now, Yosef Chaim was a challenging student—every lesson with him was a project. But suddenly, in that next lesson, when another student wanted to say something, who was the one who immediately calmed him down? Yosef Chaim. He told him, “Show respect! Where’s your respect? Show respect for our rabbi.” And so it went, lesson after lesson. The student who used to disrupt lessons became the student who made sure the lessons ran smoothly. He was the one who made sure the classroom was quiet, that no student spoke out of turn, and that everyone showed great respect for the teacher who had paid him such a compliment. Other teachers still had their stories with him. But because I was the one who had complimented him, thanks to that wise counselor’s advice, in my lessons he truly became not just a boy with the face of an angel, but a boy who behaved like one, too. One compliment—one little compliment—changed a person’s whole way of behaving. How powerful is a compliment? In a moment, we’ll talk about how to give a compliment, the right way to do it, and what kind of compliment truly helps someone grow and move forward. But first, Rosh Hashanah is coming. Rosh Hashanah is a holiday whose very observance contains an enormous compliment for every one of us. After all, when do we usually celebrate someone’s birthday? On the day they were born. When do we celebrate a wedding anniversary? On the day the couple, thank G-d,

06:08 got married. So we might expect Rosh Hashanah to fall on the day the world was created. But the world was not created on the day we observe Rosh Hashanah. The world was created on 25 Elul. This lesson is being filmed today, on 25 Elul—the day the world was created. Rosh Hashanah, though, is the sixth day of creation, the day the human being was created. So the question is: Wait a moment, human beings were created at the end of creation. Wouldn’t it make more sense for Rosh Hashanah to be on the day the world was created? The answer is that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is telling us something: a world without people has no meaning. The whole purpose of this world is for us human beings to be here, to do good deeds and mitzvos, to do what Hakadosh Boruch Hu asks of us. In that way, we improve the world, elevate it, and sustain its existence. Every week, on Friday, we say, “which G-d created to do.” But why does it say “which G-d created to do”? On the sixth day, when creation was complete, wouldn’t it make more sense to say, “which G-d created and did”? He had already finished creating it. What do the words “which G-d created to do” mean? The explanation is that the world was created for us to do something with it: to improve it, to repair it, to elevate it, to illuminate this world with a higher, spiritual light. And who are the people whose actions have the power to improve and elevate the world, to make it a much better place and prepare it for the Geulah, for tremendous things? We are. That is our power. That is why Rosh Hashanah is specifically on the day the human being was created, not on the day the world was created. Here, Hakadosh Boruch Hu is telling us how much meaning

08:20 We have human beings. But it doesn’t end there. At the beginning, one person was created—a single, solitary person, Adam, the first man. After that, Chava was created, they had children, and the world began to develop and multiply. That is how the command in the Torah, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth,” gradually began to be fulfilled. But the question is: If Hakadosh Boruch Hu wants many people in this world—“Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth”—wouldn’t it have been better to create several people at once instead of creating just one person, Adam, at the beginning? The world’s population would have grown much more, much faster. But that is what Hashem wants: “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth.” So why did Hakadosh Boruch Hu create just one person at first? Our Sages say this teaches us something incredibly powerful: A person must say, “The world was created for me.” This entire world was created even for one individual among us—for me alone, for him alone, for her alone. Why? Because the actions of every one of us are so significant, so powerful, that they can create an entire world, with everything it contains: all the animals on land and in the oceans, and everything else. It is worth creating a whole world, with all its galaxies, for the deeds and actions of each one of us. That is why a single person was created at first: to teach us that it is worth creating a world for just one individual. How much strength and power do we have? What an enormous compliment that is! So when Rosh Hashanah comes, we might think, “Wait, the world wasn’t created today.” Ah, that’s right—today man was created, because there is, because

10:22 because it is worth creating a world for a human being. A person’s actions have such power that it is worth creating an entire world for that person—even for one single, solitary person. What a compliment! And we need to pass that compliment on to our children. Take your little boy or girl and tell them, in the simplest words, “I’m so happy that you’re my daughter, that you’re my son. Thank Hashem we were given such sweet children. Mom and Dad must have done something very, very good to merit Hashem giving us you.” Just think how much that can build them up. Take your little child—your little boy or girl—pick them up and, for no particular reason, give them a hug. Look at their face: suddenly there’s such a calm expression, a little half-smile. That hug, those words, do them so much good. They build a child up tremendously, because everyone wants to feel needed and loved. It gives them strength. It gives them self-confidence. Simply tell your children, “We love you. We love you.” And again: “Thank Hashem we were blessed with such sweet children.” How much a person wants to feel wanted and loved. There’s an amazing story, especially with the Tishrei holidays coming soon. At the Rebbe’s, they used to celebrate—and they still celebrate every day—Simchas Beis Hashoevah, the celebration during Sukkos commemorating how, in the time of the Beis Hamikdash, water was drawn from the Shiloach spring and poured on the altar during the offering of the sacrifice. To this day, they celebrate Simchas Beis Hashoevah. It’s a tremendous celebration. As the Mishnah says, “Whoever has not seen

12:30 the celebration of Simchas Beis Hashoevah has never seen joy in his life.” The Rebbe made a great point of saying that it should be celebrated out in the streets of the city in the most extraordinary way. So at the Rebbe’s, throughout Sukkos, every day even now, the police close off one of the main streets, and there’s music, celebration, and dancing. Every evening, from ten at night until six in the morning—and even at five in the morning, there are crowds of people dancing. But people dance and dance and dance, and they get thirsty and hungry. Where can they eat? It’s Sukkos; you can’t eat just anywhere. So it’s amazing to see the various sukkahs there, where people simply hang a sign at the entrance saying, “Kol dichfin” [unclear]—meaning anyone who wants to is welcome to come in. People go in, and there are refreshments, drinks, food, all kinds of dishes. They come in without asking, without needing permission, without knocking on the door. They sit down, drink, eat, and relax. Sometimes these gatherings in the sukkahs turn into a kind of farbrengen, a conversation among friends. There’s a story about a Jew named Rabbi Moshe Edri, from Kfar Chabad, who educated very, very many people. He worked at the vocational school in Kfar Chabad. That school lifted up many young people and gave them a trade for the future. Many families today were established—and established well—thanks to that vocational school. Rabbi Moshe Edri relates that once he traveled to the Rebbe for the month of Tishrei. During Sukkos, he danced and celebrated at Simchas Beis Hashoevah, then went into one of those “Kol dichfin” [unclear] sukkahs. A few other Jews, a few other chassidim, were sitting there, and a conversation developed between them.

14:35 They drank a little, ate, and talked. Then Rabbi Moshe Edri said, with a touch of pain, “Chabad today isn’t like it used to be. Chabad used to be small, and you felt as if the Rebbe knew everyone. Today it’s grown so big; it isn’t like it used to be.” He said it with a certain sadness. Well, everyone finished eating and drinking and went back to the dancing. Sukkos ended, Simchas Torah ended, and little by little, all the guests who had traveled to the Rebbe began returning to their countries. Before they left, the Rebbe held a kind of yechidus in his beis midrash for those gathered—there was a separate one for the women—and spoke to them before each returned to his or her own country. It was called a general yechidus. At the end of that yechidus, that special meeting, the Rebbe gave each person a dollar with a blessing, to give to tzedakah. Rabbi Moshe Edri relates that he very much wanted to attend, but several students from the vocational school had to return to Eretz Yisroel, so he accompanied them to JFK Airport in New York. He hurried back, hoping to make it in time. He says he got out of the car that brought him back and rushed into the Rebbe’s beis midrash at 770. He saw that only a few people were left to receive a dollar from the Rebbe; the event was almost over. So he quickly buttoned his jacket and put on the black belt called a gartel, which chassidim wear when approaching the Rebbe. Still getting himself ready, he joined the line. A few moments later, his turn came. He says that suddenly, as the Rebbe handed him a dollar, the Rebbe said to the secretary standing beside him,

16:31 In Yiddish, of course, the Rebbe says to him, “This is Moshe Edri from Kfar Chabad, from the vocational school.” He received the dollar, moved on, and suddenly it sank in what had happened. A few days earlier, he had said, “Today isn’t like it used to be. In the past, they knew everyone personally; today it’s no longer like that.” And suddenly the Rebbe calls out to him, as though he had read his thoughts, and says, “I know your name. You’re Moshe Edri. I know where you live. You’re from Kfar Chabad, and I also know where you work, at the vocational school.” You thought I didn’t know about you? That I don’t know about each and every person? I know very well who you are, where you live, and all the details. It made him feel so good, so happy. He returned to Israel so happy and overjoyed, and he told this story afterward. In other words, how good it makes a person feel, at any age, to know that people see him, notice him, sense that he’s there, that he exists. How good it makes our children feel when they sense that we notice them, are aware of them, and are there with them. But what is the right way to give praise? Because there are kinds of praise we shouldn’t give. We think they’ll help, but they can have exactly the opposite effect. There are two kinds of praise: general praise for our children—telling them that we love them and how happy we are to have them, like the examples we discussed earlier. The more of that kind of praise we give, the better, because it has no side effects. It will only give them more self-confidence and a stronger feeling that I’m loved, that people are happy to have me. With that kind of praise, the more, the better. But when we come to praise them for specific things—

18:32 not general praise, but specific things—the test they took, the house they straightened up, the dishes she washed, the room she tidied, the room he tidied—we need to know how to give that kind of praise. We should praise the effort, not the talent. We should praise the effort, not the grade. We’ll tell a boy or girl, “Well done for working so hard on this test. We saw you put in the effort, sitting down and studying. Well done.” We’ll tell them, “Well done for holding back and not responding the way you could have. Well done for putting in the work and tidying your room. We saw how hard it was.” Why? If we praise the grade—“Wow, what a grade! Well done on that grade!”—rather than the effort, the child will start thinking that praise comes only with a good grade. After all, what was the praise for? The grade. So now the child will feel tremendous pressure to get a good grade. When faced with a test that seems very difficult, with no chance of getting a good grade, he’ll quickly give up; she’ll quickly lose heart and won’t take the test. But if they’re used to being praised for their effort—“I saw how hard you worked”—we don’t even need to mention the grade. “Well done for putting in the effort. We saw how hard you tried.” Then, even when something is difficult, she knows and he knows that we value effort, not necessarily the final grade, and it won’t break their spirit. They’ll come to understand that what they need to do is simply try hard, and that their effort deserves praise. In professional terms, this is called operant conditioning. For example, when training an animal, what do you do? You teach it that if it performs a certain action, it—

20:39 will get food. Gradually it understands that it’s worth performing that action when it hears a particular sound, because if it does so after hearing that sound or seeing that signal, it will get the food it likes. In other words, the action is performed because of the expected result: knowing what will happen at the end prompts that particular action. It’s the same with our children. If they know that to receive praise, the action they need to perform is getting a good grade, then when they see there’s no chance of a good grade, they’ll lose heart completely. But if they know that praise follows an action called effort—effort on a test, in relationships between siblings at home, in tidying their room, whatever it may be—then they’ll keep trying. What grade will they get? Whatever grade they get. But they’ll put in the effort, and there’s nothing more wonderful than that. So we should focus mainly on praising them for their efforts. By the way, studies have shown that children who were praised for their efforts kept trying and, as a result, improved their grades too. By contrast, children who were praised for their grades simply gave up when they got a slightly difficult test. They either didn’t do it or did it poorly because of the pressure weighing on them: there might be no praise this time, because there probably wouldn’t be a good grade. So general praise—telling them how loved they are, how blessed they are, and how happy we are to have them—is wonderful, and the more, the better. But with specific praise for particular things, we shouldn’t praise an inborn talent or a particular grade. We should praise—

22:36 the effort, the path they took, because that’s what will give them the desire and strength to keep trying, to keep following that path toward good things. How much Hakadosh Boruch Hu trusts us, also when it comes to the Geulah! The Rambam writes that the Geulah will come through each one of us. The Rambam says that every person should see this world as though its merits and transgressions were equally balanced, and one single action of mine is what will bring the world closer to the Geulah. In other words, everything depends on me. How affirming that is! It also places a tremendous responsibility on us, but it’s tremendously affirming to know that we have the strength. We have it in our hands to bring the most powerful things into the world. So we learned in today’s lesson that praise can build a person up in an amazing way. It can transform someone completely, as in the story of Yosef Chaim. It doesn’t cost money—not even one shekel—but its benefit is enormous. We saw that Rosh Hashanah is the day on which man was created, and the fact that man was created alone at first, rather than several people being created, shows how much power, strength, and significance each one of us has. What an extraordinary affirmation that is for us. Then we turned to the subject of praise and learned to give as much general praise as possible. With specific praise, we should emphasize the effort and the path, not necessarily the result or the grade. Thank you very much. I would be very happy if you shared this lesson with someone else. Share it with another woman; share it with another man, so this very important and simple message reaches them too and, with Hashem’s help, helps them raise their children. May we hear good news, may there be—

24:43 a speedy Geulah, and may we merit a good year, to be inscribed and sealed for good. May we have much, much nachas from our children, with Hashem’s help. May we remember that our children are the most important thing in the world. They’re the ones we’ll invest in, think about, and make an effort for. May we have much, much nachas, with Hashem’s help. Once again, a good year; may you be inscribed and sealed for good, and may we hear good news.