jlink
Tuesday, December 07, 2021
Advertisement

I am a very lucky person—blessed I would say. With a busy life and great expectations and hopes, it often takes something or someone to remind me to remember the good things in my life. And recently, one of my children did exactly that.

On one special morning in the Bernstein household, our boys woke up even earlier than usual after taking turns crawling out of their beds and into our bedroom. We were all excited about an event that would take place that morning at Yavneh Academy. My 7-year-old son, BR, and his class were putting on their Chumash play—a play they had been working on for a month. I was looking forward to seeing the whole of the play, since I knew just the lines that composed my son’s part.

The play was a hit. The children did all kinds of cute 7-year-old things; they dressed in costumes, said their lines (some shyly and some loudly), and sang (some on key and some not so much). Parents and other family members clapped and smiled. My focus, of course, was on my son. He put on a fine performance and displayed how much he had grown since the previous year’s production. He said his lines loudly, if a little quickly, sung the words, and did the hand gestures he had practiced for weeks.

After the performance, one by one, the families were called up to the bima to present their children with their own chumashim and to pose for a picture.

I waited anxiously and excitedly to hear my son’s name called. When it was, my mother, my 5-year-old son, my wife, and I approached the bima and joined BR. Then my wife gave him his chumash. A surge of naches shot through me. I wanted to give him a big hug and tell him how much I loved him, how much I hoped he would look to the book he had been given, and how happy I was that he was doing so well in his studies. Instead, I refrained from embarrassing him in public and simply placed my arm on his shoulder and posed for the picture.

Later on that day, I found my son sitting in the window seat. He had the book open and was reading the weekly parsha. For all the pride I took in seeing my son’s performance at the play, I was even happier seeing him take the book on his own.

BR is still a little boy who thinks any sentence with the word fart in it is hilarious. My little boy, who loves to splash in the bath, who delights in spending hours playing with Lego, is growing up into someone I am so proud of—a mensch and more. That is indeed a blessing!

Blog Address: memyselfandkids.com

Website Address: http://larrydbernstein.com/

By Larry D. Bernstein

Share
Sign up now!