By Rabbi Jessica Lowenthal

Last winter, when my son Louis was one and a half, he refused to stay in the house for more than an hour in the morning. He would wake up, have a little breakfast, and then promptly go to the front door. Obviously, it was a bit cold out, so we became members at a local indoor playground. We were there at least two or three times a week. As time went on, it was wonderful to see Louis develop in his play- sometimes he was adventurous and went down the big slide, other times he was really interested in pushing his doll in a stroller. Most of the time, he was playing by himself, or with my husband or I. 

Every once in a while, he would notice another kid and just observe them. He would stand in the middle of the room and stare at them playing around. So whenever one of the other, normally older, kids came over to him and engaged with him, I was thrilled. 

One time a little girl took an interest in him, and they were playing around the firetruck. She was maybe a little less than a year older than him, and seemed quite happy to be in charge of someone. 

At one point, she pushed Louis, and he fell down. I rushed over to make sure Louis was ok, and he was- he didn’t cry at all. He did seem a bit confused, but nothing more. The girl’s mother also came over and told her that was bad- you don’t push people, and to say she was sorry. The girl refused and got upset, so the mother took her away for a timeout. 

During this, Louis got up and started playing with something else. He was totally content, and since he was fine, so was I. After some time, the girl and her mother came back over, and her mother told her to say “I’m sorry” to Louis. Louis couldn’t have been less interested. I had to stop him from playing so that the girl could say the magic words. She eventually did, although it was clearly begrudgingly. With that, she was allowed to play again, and Louis went back to whatever he was doing.

The girl’s mother thanked me for helping her- it was important that her daughter learn boundaries and to say “I’m sorry” and it was an area they were working on. I filed it away for when Louis would go through the same issue.

I find myself smiling at the memory now. How interesting it is that we have to teach our kids to apologize- that saying those words are important, even if the child doesn’t really feel sorry, or doesn’t truly understand why their actions caused harm. Because at two years old, we are learning social norms that our brains haven’t caught up with yet. Toddlers are notoriously self-centered. The world revolves around them and their desires. But we also know that around two years old, the foundation of empathy begins. 

They can observe an emotion in others, and themselves, and act based off of that information. Erin and David Walsh, both family and child therapists, say that “We can’t sit our children down for formal lessons in empathy. Instead, empathetic responses emerge over time in the context of caring relationships, modeling, storytelling, communication, playing, emotion coaching, and a whole lot of patience. As Mary Gordon, the founder of Roots of Empathy, reminds us, “Empathy is caught, not taught.” 

We, as adults, must model empathy. Although practicing saying those words is important, it is never enough.

Yom Kippur is a yearly reminder that this is a lesson we are never done learning. It is so easy to look at children and recognize when one needs to apologize to the other. If I push someone and they fall down, of course I say I am sorry. But if, in a moment of stress, I tell someone I do not have time for their question, or give a rushed, clearly uninterested answer, I may not immediately recognize the damage I have done. 

Rambam, a Sephardic Jewish philosopher in the 1100’s, says that Yom Kippur does not atone for sins between people. He continues, “if one injures his neighbor, or curses his neighbor or robs him, or offends him in like matters, he is not absolved unless he makes restitution of what he owes and begs the forgiveness of his neighbor. And, although he makes restitution of the monetary debt, he is obliged to pacify him and to beg his forgiveness. Even he offended his neighbor in nothing but words, he is obliged to appease him and implore him until he is forgiven by him. If his neighbor refuses to accept, he should bring a committee of three friends to implore and beg of him; if he still refuses he should bring a second, even a third committee, and if the neighbor remains obstinate, he may leave him to himself and move on, for the sin then rests upon the one who refuses forgiveness.”

When we harm someone, through violence of any kind- physical, emotional, monetary, through our actions or our inactions- it is our responsibility to recognize what we have done and try to make it right. Often, what is done cannot be undone, but we still need to take responsibility. We must not only apologize and beg forgiveness, but we also internally realize where we fell down and how we can prevent ourselves from doing the same thing again. 

And, at some point, we must also recognize there is only so much we can do. We own up to our actions, sincerely apologize, and commit to doing better. And then, we have to move on. Whether the other person is ready to forgive us is not something we can control. Once we have done all we can do, it is our duty to let it go. 

All year, and particularly in the last ten days, we were responsible for owning our actions and asking forgiveness. Yom Kippur is the end of that process, at least for this year. Today, we acknowledge that we have done our best, we have honestly examined our actions and pledged to do better. We have reached out to those we hurt so that they know we see them, and we see how we harmed them. 

And now, we move on. Today, we ask for the strength to not carry our sins on our backs forever. We ask for the strength to let go- because if we hold on to our past, if we dwell on our mistakes, we will never have the opportunity to make a different choice, to make a better choice. 

Resh Lakish, a Rabbi in the Talmud, said, “Great is teshuvah- repentance, because it turns one’s sins into merits.” What does it mean, that repentance turns sins into merits? 

When we sin, when we make a mistake, and we truly repent- we acknowledge our mistake and vow to never do it again, we grow as a person. Only through making these mistakes, and learning from them, can we become better. Can we become the best self we can be. 

This Yom Kippur, let us use our mistakes this year, the harm we have caused, to push us to learn, to grow, and to be better. And then, let us leave those mistakes in the past, to appreciate the lessons we have learned, and move forward.

Shanah Tovah

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