When Moshe’s mother opened the email, the message she read was not one she expected. “Dear Mrs. Miller, I am writing to you to discuss Moshe’s behavior at school. Other students have started complaining about Moshe pushing them in the hallways and at recess. A few of Moshe’s classmates have also recently let me know that Moshe has been disrespecting their possessions. He knocks things over and doesn’t pick them up and he steps on other students’ backpacks if they are in the way. Please let me know when we can discuss. Have a good night, Morah Erlich.”

Moshe’s mother was shocked. Not only was this type of behavior completely unexpected from Moshe, she always got positive reports from teachers. She responded immediately to set up a phone call with Morah Erlich. Then, after Moshe’s mother was sure her response was sent properly, she went to speak with her son. “After all,” thought Mrs. Miller, “this is probably a misunderstanding or something. I’m sure Moshe will have a good explanation.”

Mrs. Miller knocked on the door to Moshe’s room.

“Who is it?” called Moshe.

“It’s me. Mommy.” Mrs. Miller then heard the unmistakable sound of Moshe climbing down from his top bunk.

“Come in, Mommy!” he called as she turned the knob to enter her son’s room. “Hi Mommy! What is it? Do you need my help with anything? I just finished my homework and I was playing with my toys.”

Moshe’s mother smiled. What a polite and helpful 8-year-old. Most children this age wouldn’t ask their mothers if they needed help. Moshe was a real gem.

“No help needed, cutie pie. I just wanted to ask you about something. But first, can we clean up a little here?” Moshe’s mother motioned to the clothing, books and toys all over the floor.After ten minutes of straightening up, Moshe looked up at his mother.

“Mommy, what did you want to ask me?”

His mother smiled. Why get Moshe upset about something that he clearly did not do.

“Nothing my sweetheart. I actually realized the answer to my question while we were cleaning up.”

With that, Mrs. Miller headed downstairs to email Morah Erlich. She sat down at her computer, opened her inbox and began to type. “Dear Morah Erlich, I just spoke with Moshe, and I’m pretty sure this isn’t going to be a problem anymore. Please be in touch if you see otherwise. Thank you for reaching out and have a great night!” With that, any thought of her little tzaddik misbehaving disappeared, and Mrs. Miller went back to her usual routine.

Of course, this was not the end of Moshe’s problems in class. The next day, Moshe’s mother received another email. This time, Morah Erlich had a different issue to discuss. Apparently, Moshe had started acting rudely to the people serving lunch. Instead of politely asking for specific food items, he used the word “gimme,” and followed that with a “more, now!” This behavior then carried over to class time, during which he commanded Morah Erlich to let him “go get a drink now!” Morah Erlich was not insulted by this behavior (she had heard much worse), but she was concerned for Moshe. Was everything okay at home? Was there anything she could do to help?

This time, Moshe’s mother had no choice—she had to take these claims seriously. She headed upstairs to Moshe’s room, stepped over yet another pile of clothing and toys, and sat down on his bed. Moshe put his book down, descended the ladder from the top bunk and sat down next to her. Like the day before, Moshe was completely polite and respectful to his mom, but she still had to ask about Morah Erlich’s email.

Once Mrs. Miller finished her question, Moshe broke into tears. “I’m sorry Mommy! I don’t know why I was talking like that today! It just kind of happened!” Moshe continued to sob, while his mother rubbed his back. “It’s okay, Mo. Mistakes happen. It just surprised me because you never talk that way at home. Let’s just be better tomorrow.” Moshe sniffled, nodded, and walked downstairs with his mother to get a drink of water.

Later that evening, Mrs. Miller was on the phone with her sister, telling her everything that happened. “What do you think? Should I be worried? What do you think it could be?” After a moment of silence, her sister spoke. “Bracha, do you have an Echo Dot at home?” Moshe’s mother nodded. “Yes. We have three.” Her sister continued. “Does Moshe use it?” Again, she confirmed. “We’ve actually been letting him play with it in his room.” Another moment passed. “Do me a favor Bracha. Next time he’s using it, go listen to him.” Moshe’s mom agreed, chatted a little more with her sister, and went straight upstairs to listen.

As you may have guessed, Moshe was not speaking very nicely to his Echo Dot. “Alexa, play Mordechai Shapiro now!” “Are you dumb? I said Mordechai! Not More Dudes Cry!” “Tell me the time, now!” Alarmed by what she was hearing, Moshe’s mother stepped into the room, immediately tripping over a pile of books. While she lay on the carpet, getting ready to stand up, Mrs. Miller realized exactly what was going on. (And don’t worry, she wasn’t hurt, and Moshe got his act together.)

In Parshat Kedoshim, we are introduced to two mitzvot meant to protect those who can’t fully protect themselves. We are told not to “curse a person who can’t hear” and not to “place a stumbling block in front of a person who is blind.” Why need to mention both of these? Additionally, what is so terrible about cursing someone who can’t hear? Nobody was insulted and life goes on!

One approach might be to focus on the person doing the aveira. Even if someone can’t hear what you say, insulting or cursing someone makes you more likely to act that way in the future. Being mean makes you more cruel, even if nobody else is affected. It doesn’t matter who you are talking to—someone serving lunch or “Alexa.” It doesn’t matter if the books, toys and clothing belong to you. Treat everything with respect, especially yourself.

Yair Daar is the middle school dean of students at Yeshivat He’Atid. He can be reached at [email protected].