Bless Your Children

Every child is a blessing.  When a child enters our life, we are changed forever.  Our hearts swell with a love so deep and pure that it cannot be described, only felt.   We put our children before ourselves;  our needs become secondary.   We become better people, more patient, generous, kind and strong, because we want to be the best we can be for them, to model the kind of person we want them to grow to be. Children let us touch the future.  They are our connection to immortality.

When we are blessed with children, we become partners in parenting with G-d, everyone's Father.  We look to Him for guidance in the awesome responsibility and privilege of nurturing a soul. Even those of us who don't believe in G-d recognize that every life is a miracle. All parents harbor hopes for their children's well-being.  Those hopes may be directed at life in general or the universe at large, but to me they express a spiritual association.

There's a beautiful Jewish custom to bless our children every Friday night, just as we begin Shabbat.  Typically, the father places his hands on each child's head and recites a prescribed blessing, one for girls and one for boys.  This blessing pleads with G-d to bless the child and watch over him or her, in the same way that we ourselves hope to nurture and watch over our children.  The Hebrew word for blessing is bracha, which implies multiplicity.  As parents, our job is to build our children up, to increase their strengths and help them grow physically, mentally, and emotionally.   At the same time, we try to protect our children, to keep them away from harm.  We discipline them with limits so that they can grow safely and healthfully.  

Blessing our children can take many forms, and does not need to be a ritual to be effective.  Our intention is to communicate love for our children and faith that they have what they need to blossom and thrive in this world.  It's important for children to know that they are beloved and protected by both parents and G-d.  My maternal grandfather, Salvatore Bonanno, was a deeply religious man.  He converted from Catholicism to the Pentacostal religion after my mother and her brothers were grown.  He became a deacon of his church, gave lots of charity, and prayed several times a day.  One day he was sitting in a chair and called me over to him.  He put his arm around me and In his broken English he asked, "Georgia, who is more important, your father on earth or your Father in heaven?".  I had been attending catechism classes; plus I knew my grandfather very well, so of course I answered, "My Father in heaven".  He was very pleased with me and made me feel that I was blessed; that I was completely surrounded by love and protection.  

Our children are not ours to keep (as hard as that is!).  While they are still in our care, we can treasure the blessings they bring us and in turn, make sure they feel blessed as well.

All You Need Is Love:

When I was pregnant with my first child, I worried about the future life of the little person within me.  Who would this child be?  How and where would she make her life?  Thoughts about the responsibilities of raising her washed over me like a giant wave of fear and awe.  I relied on one of my mother's many pithy remarks (my kids and I now call them "Nani-isms"):  "All you have to do is love your child".

Well now, what parent doesn't love his/her child?  That seemed easy enough.  And in hindsight, I actually think my mother was right for once.  What I needed to learn was the physical practice of love.  What does it look like to love your child?  How does that love inform your actions and decisions?

Love is a warm and cozy feeling.  It's hugs and kisses and smiles.  It's looking at your child with an insatiable hunger for every part of him/her.  It's giving, giving, giving, no matter what you have, need, or want, to keep your child happy, well-fed, and safe.  That's the easy part of love. 

The hard part doesn't feel so great.  It hurts to hear our child cry.  We hurt when our children hurt.  But love means that sometimes they have to cry.  We can't let them eat candy for dinner, for example, or run and play on a busy street.  Young children don't understand what's best for them, and they protest when we say "No".  No, you can't stay up late, you can't use my phone without permission, you can't use markers on the walls.....

Sometimes "no" is the first word a child learns.  But that's not a bad thing.  Parental love is double-sided. On one side is the warm, cozy, good-feeling stuff, and on the other side is "No".  Look at the 10 Commandments:  half are things we can do, and half are things we can't.  Setting up rules is a sign of love, of caring.  We feel safe knowing the limits.  

Years ago, it was considered prudent to spank children.  "Spare the rod and spoil the child".  I like to think of the rod as the one a shepherd uses to keep his sheep together; to guide them, not beat them.  Think about the well-known Psalm 23: "Your rod and your staff comfort me."  Your rod keeps me in line, prevents me from straying from what is best for me.  Your staff shows me where you are; I know you're there to keep me safe.

Learning when to say yes and when to say no is probably the hardest part of parenting.  When do I hold on to my child, when is it okay to let him go?  We have to think hard about the outcome of every decision we make, big or small, and make sure it aligns with what we know in our heart is best for our children.  Then we can bask in our children's smiles or rest easy knowing that their present tears are necessary for their own well-being.  Awesome, awesome work.