Every baal teshuva gets asked the question, "Why did you become religious?" Depending on my audience, I have different answers (all of which are true). One of my primary answers is children. I wanted my children to have a stronger, more natural, emuna and bitachon (strength and trust in God).
Twenty years and four children later, I can honestly say that I believe I have laid the foundations. Two stories from this Pesach involving my six year old daughter confirm that I am heading in the right direction.
During the first days of the holiday, which we spent with my family, my mother took a walk with three of her grandchildren. During their walk, they played "build-a-story," a game in which each person adds a piece to the story. At the end of their creative tale, my mother asked each child for a conclusion. According to her, my six year old decided that the protagonist (my word, not hers) prayed to Hashem that his problems would be taken care of and the next day was able to solve all his problems. My mother was very impressed, not just with the answer, but with her sincerity.
During the first days of the holiday, which we spent with my family, my mother took a walk with three of her grandchildren. During their walk, they played "build-a-story," a game in which each person adds a piece to the story. At the end of their creative tale, my mother asked each child for a conclusion. According to her, my six year old decided that the protagonist (my word, not hers) prayed to Hashem that his problems would be taken care of and the next day was able to solve all his problems. My mother was very impressed, not just with the answer, but with her sincerity.
The second story must be prefaced with the explanation that on Thursday of Chol Hamoed, my daughter tripped over a stump and landed on her face. Not only did she cut up her lip, but she knocked out her top front tooth, which had not yet even started to wiggle. On Friday morning, my poor princess did not want to leave the house because, as she put it, she looked like a duck. (Indeed, she was very swollen.) We convinced her that she was fine to go out in public. Later that day, after she struggled to eat properly through her bruises, my daughter quietly asked me, "If everything God does is for the good, what good was there in my losing my tooth?"
Our answer was fairly mundane...it was a serious enough incident to get the zoo to remove the stump. I was calm in my response, but inside my heart - or perhaps my soul - leaped for joy.
I have no doubt that this child often experiences profound thoughts. Sadly, I am often too busy with work, or laundry, or cooking, or her siblings, or etc., to sit down and have a chat. And the lack of that time was most poignantly pointed out to me by this very child when, her hand in mind, she held my hand (a few days before the accident) and told me that she loved long trips because we all spent time together.
When I went to sit down and write about my Pesach holiday, I thought about this last story and was going to wax poetic about the freedom I found this Passover. But I think that my daughter helped my get to the very heart of the entire freedom experience, which is allowing ourselves to have a beautiful and sincere relationship with Hashem.
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