Rabbi Peretz Chen | How do we get our children to connect more with books?

00:00 Hello. Many soldiers who came out of Gaza said that one of the things that did them a great deal of good there, amid everything they were going through, was being cut off from the media—from phones, WhatsApp, videos, and the news. It felt so good to have time to themselves and to be together without all sorts of distractions. They say it did them so much good that some came out and decided they wanted to reduce their exposure to the media, and their use of all the digital media out there. One of them even said, “Inside, we were so happy despite everything. We came out and met sad people, because they’re constantly surrounded by news, updates, and commentary.” Being without those things did them so much good in there. And really, if those of us who are a little older think back to when we were children or teenagers, we would sit for hours with books. There weren’t digital devices like there are today. We sat and read books, and it was very special. How many people remember that with longing today? But now the media has taken such a strong hold, and children, teenagers, and adults—everyone—is caught up in it. That genuine feeling we once had is no longer there. Even in the world of books: a few years ago, I was on a flight somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, and a woman was sitting next to me. I think she wasn’t Jewish. I saw her reading a book, but when I looked more closely, I realized it wasn’t a physical book; it was a digital one. She had lots and lots of books on that one device. The screen looked like a yellowish page in a book, but it wasn’t a physical book. It occurred to me that, little by little, the world would lose its books and everything would move to digital. But we, the Jewish people, will always remain

02:09 the People of the Book, thanks to Shabbos, when we can’t use any of those digital devices. There’s something very special about a book. But the question is how we can instill that appreciation in our children, so that today and in the future they’ll know that a book is something precious, special, and important. Books in general, and especially sefarim—Torah books with genuine, Jewish, worthwhile content. How do we do that? There’s a story about one of the Rebbe’s secretaries, Rabbi Chodakov, a”h. He once gathered a group of young men who were soon to be married and gave them some guidance for life. One of the things he told them was to make sure that, before going to sleep at night, they left two books open on the table in their living room. One should be a book of the revealed part of Torah—a Gemara, Mishnah, or Shulchan Aruch. The other should be a book of the inner dimension of Torah—a Chassidus book, Tanya, a book of maamarim, or Likkutei Sichos. Of course, you can’t just leave books open overnight, so you put a piece of paper or something over them to cover them, while leaving the books in place. The idea is that when a child wakes up in the morning and goes into the living room, he’ll see the two books and think, “Oh, Dad sat here last night and studied these books.” That will teach him that books have value. Of course, it’s best not merely to open them and leave them there. You should actually open them and learn from them before going to sleep. But what the child sees in the morning is so important. After all, what could be a more powerful education than seeing his father sitting and learning? Imagine a father who gets up early on Shabbos—perhaps Shabbos is when this works best, because everyone is busy during the week. He gets up early, makes himself a cup of tea, sits down with a book and learns. One of the children comes in and sees him there

04:38 from the side. All the talks, classes, and arguments about how important a book is won’t accomplish as much as that one image the child sees. “There’s my father sitting with a book. It must be precious; it must be important. It must really be something of significant value.” Our job is to set an example for our children in this area: to show them a connection to books, to be a living example. I once heard someone say to another person at a farbrengen, “There’s a living example, and there’s an example of an animal.” Some people set an example by behaving like an animal. That’s a negative example. We need to be a living example of how to behave. So when our children see our connection to books, it will impress upon them, too, how meaningful and important a book is in life. There’s a story about two fathers. They had grown up as friends, gotten married, and started families. One took on a significant religious position and became a dayan in a beis din—a very respected role. His friend was a talented man who worked successfully at a major high-tech company and earned a good living. Time passed, and their children grew up. The dayan’s son went in a direction that wasn’t so Torah-oriented, while the high-tech worker’s son became a serious young man, connected to sefarim and committed to Torah. People wondered why the son of the man who represented Torah had drifted away somewhat, while the son of the man who represented the wider world had become so Torah-oriented. After a little investigation, it became clear that when the dayan came home in the evening after a day’s work, he would make himself a cup of coffee and pick up the newspaper—of course, a newspaper with content in keeping with Jewish values. He would open it and sit on the sofa with his coffee, reading the paper. That was how he spent his evening.

07:12 That was how he relaxed after working hard all day. The son of the high-tech worker, who also worked hard, would see his father come home in the evening after an exhausting day’s work. His father would help out a little around the house, eat something, get himself ready, and go out to a Torah class. Or sometimes he would sit at home and open a sefer. That was how the son saw his father spend his free time. By contrast, the dayan’s son saw his father spend his free time with a cup of coffee and a newspaper. So each of those children understood what was most valuable in the world. The dayan’s son learned what had value—and what proved it had value? “My father does it. That’s what I see my father doing every evening: having a cup of coffee and reading the paper.” So those were the directions he turned to. The son of the high-tech worker, on the other hand, saw that Torah was the most important thing in the world to his father, because that was what his father did in his free time, even when he was very tired after a hard day’s work. His father would sit down and open a sefer or go out to a Torah class. Whatever explanations or arguments we give, what children see with their own eyes is what will have an impact on them. There’s a story about... We’ve all heard of Choni HaMe’agel: when rain didn’t fall, he drew a circle on the ground, stood in it, and prayed to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, saying that he would not leave until it rained. In the end, rain fell, and he even asked for its intensity to be adjusted. In other words, he was a righteous Jew, a holy Jew, someone whose requests Hakadosh Boruch Hu answered in such a direct way. He was certainly an exceptional person. But notice something interesting: if we open the books, if we open

09:16 If we search through the Gemara for teachings or halachos from Choni HaMe’agel, we won’t find any. There’s this story in the Gemara, and there are other stories too. There are stories about his grandchildren, but we don’t find teachings or halachos that he himself said. How can that be? The Alter Rebbe asked this question. And the Alter Rebbe says that there are Jews, tzaddikim, Tannaim, who taught Torah and in that way educated the next generation. But Choni HaMe’agel didn’t teach halachos; he showed people how to live by them. He was an example. People saw him and knew: This is how we should behave. This is proper conduct; this is how a person should be. That was Choni HaMe’agel. And that’s why we don’t have halachos or teachings from him, because his example was what he gave us. Because the most powerful, effective tool we have for educating isn’t what we say—it’s what people see. In Chabad there’s a concept called shluchim. Everyone knows that. But there’s another concept called shluchim to a yeshiva. These are older students, still unmarried, who go to a yeshiva with younger students. They strengthen them, learn with them, and organize activities and campaigns to motivate them to learn and grow. This is a very strong practice in Chabad, and a very positive one. The Rebbe himself spoke about these student shluchim. And one of the things the Rebbe told those groups of students was that they needed to know that their main work, their main shlichus, was not necessarily to organize huge campaigns, impressive competitions, and things that would be written about in the newspapers. It was to sit and learn in the beis midrash alongside the younger students—to learn with each other, the two older students themselves. This

11:39 is the example, and this is the greatest education. Why? Because then a younger student watching from the side says, “Here’s someone older than me, and I see that learning is his life. So it must really be something valuable.” The activities and campaigns they organize—that’s understandable. After all, they came here for a particular purpose. That’s their job. But when those younger students see the older students learning together with great enthusiasm, they understand: “Oh, this must be something of value. It must be a supreme value. It must be something to aspire to.” So the point is this: We want our children to love a book, to love books—books in general, and holy books in particular. We need to set that example. Simply set that example: sit down and open a book. Even today, sometimes we want to learn something—say, some Chumash in the evening, or something from Rambam—and today it’s all on the phone, on the screen, on the screen. Sometimes that’s easy: two taps and you have everything. Searching through books... But then we’ll lose this whole point. Yes, let’s look for books, find them, and sit down with them. Then our children will absorb the value of a book, of sitting in front of a book and learning. It’s something so powerful, and we all miss the days when it was truly such a strong part of life. With Hashem’s help, it will be that way for them too. So may everyone hear good news, may you have lots and lots of nachas from your children, and may all our righteous soldiers return home safe and sound, healthy in body and mind. May the hostages return, and may we merit the resurrection of the dead. May the Jewish people know only good, in the month of Adar, such a joyful month. If something here resonated with you and this point speaks to you, please share it. Share it with a friend, and with Hashem’s help, may we see only good and happy news. All

13:48 the best.