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Draft edition

By Rabbi Shalom Landau.

The Left Hand Pushes Away, the Right Hand Draws Near

Opening There is a parent you know. Maybe you are that parent. He loves his children with all his heart and soul. He wants to give them everything. When his child asks for something, anything at all, something inside him goes weak. And out of love he says yes. Always yes. There is another parent. He loves his children too. But for him, the fear of spoiling them is bigger than anything else. Every request gets a no. Every question gets a no. Every feeling gets a no. He is a high, steady wall. These two parents stand at completely opposite ends. And yet both of them are losing their children. The Foundation Our Sages teach: “Always let the left hand push away and the right hand draw near.” They said this there about raising and teaching the young, and not as a nice turn of phrase. It is a precise, practical instruction, like an architect’s plan for building a person’s inner self. Two hands. Two qualities. And both of them together. The right hand is the quality of kindness. It is closeness, warmth, the big “yes” a child needs to hear. The left hand is the quality of strength. It is the limit, the authority, the “no” that is the backbone of a growing person. These are not two methods of raising children, where a parent must pick one. They are two hands of the same body. Two Extremes, One Abandonment Here is the new idea, and we need to stop and think about it. The parent who cannot say “no” does not love too much. He has abandoned his child. He has wrapped the abandonment in softness, in smiles, in “It’s okay, sweetie.” But he has left the child alone, with no direction, no support and no father. As King Solomon wrote: “One who holds back his rod hates his son.” This is not because discipline is harsh. It is because having no limits is a very deep kind of distance. The parent who cannot say “yes” is not educating too much, either. He too has abandoned his child. A framework without warmth is a prison, not a home. Coldness sometimes puts on the face of strictness. But a child who grows up without a heart grows up alone. These two extreme paths look like opposites. In truth, they are two faces of the same mistake: a parent who is not really there. The Royal Road: Harmony In the mystical teaching about Hashem’s qualities, the right side is kindness and the left side is strength. The quality called harmony stands in the middle. It blends the two. It creates something new, a third thing that does not give up on either of them. We could call this “leadership with closeness.” There is no equality here: “You don’t get a vote. We do not have the same role.” But there is a heart that is completely open. “You have my heart. I hear what you are feeling. And still, I am the one who leads.” A confident voice and warm eyes. A limit with a connection. This is not a contradiction. This is wholeness. Think of a shepherd. In one hand he holds his staff: the limit, the direction, the protection. In the other hand he holds a tender lamb close to his chest. A parent who cannot say “no” loses his child to the winds. A parent who cannot say “yes” loses his child’s soul, and perhaps his own as well.

Putting It into Practice

Every young married man and every Jewish family man should know this: raising children does not start with technique. It starts on the inside. Am I truly present with my children, both in my limits and in my warmth? Does my “no” come from a place of love, or from being tired and afraid? Is my “yes” real presence, or am I running away from responsibility? One practical step, here and now: the next time you say “no” to your child, say it with eyes that truly see him. A clear voice and a warm look. The left hand pushes away, and the right hand still holds on. This is how we raise upright children. This is how we build a generation.

Questions and answers

Q: What two kinds of parents does Rabbi Landau describe, one who always says yes and one who always says no?

Rabbi Landau answers: There is a parent you know. Maybe you are that parent. He loves his children with all his heart and soul. He wants to give them everything. When his child asks for something, anything at all, something inside him goes weak. And out of love he says yes. Always yes. There is another parent. He loves his children too. But for him, the fear of spoiling them is bigger than anything else. Every request gets a no. Every question gets a no. Every feeling gets a no. He is a high, steady wall. These two parents stand at completely opposite ends. And yet both of them are losing their children.

Q: What does the teaching "Always let the left hand push away and the right hand draw near" mean for raising children?

Rabbi Landau answers: Our Sages teach: “Always let the left hand push away and the right hand draw near.” They said this there about raising and teaching the young, and not as a nice turn of phrase. It is a precise, practical instruction, like an architect’s plan for building a person’s inner self. Two hands. Two qualities. And both of them together. The right hand is the quality of kindness. It is closeness, warmth, the big “yes” a child needs to hear. The left hand is the quality of strength. It is the limit, the authority, the “no” that is the backbone of a growing person. These are not two methods of raising children, where a parent must pick one. They are two hands of the same body.

Q: Why is a parent who cannot say no really abandoning his child?

Rabbi Landau answers: Here is the new idea, and we need to stop and think about it. The parent who cannot say “no” does not love too much. He has abandoned his child. He has wrapped the abandonment in softness, in smiles, in “It’s okay, sweetie.” But he has left the child alone, with no direction, no support and no father. As King Solomon wrote: “One who holds back his rod hates his son.” This is not because discipline is harsh. It is because having no limits is a very deep kind of distance. The parent who cannot say “yes” is not educating too much, either. He too has abandoned his child. A framework without warmth is a prison, not a home. Coldness sometimes puts on the face of strictness.

Q: How does the quality of harmony blend kindness and strength in raising children?

Rabbi Landau answers: In the mystical teaching about Hashem’s qualities, the right side is kindness and the left side is strength. The quality called harmony stands in the middle. It blends the two. It creates something new, a third thing that does not give up on either of them. We could call this “leadership with closeness.” There is no equality here: “You don’t get a vote. We do not have the same role.” But there is a heart that is completely open. “You have my heart. I hear what you are feeling. And still, I am the one who leads.” A confident voice and warm eyes. A limit with a connection. This is not a contradiction. This is wholeness. Think of a shepherd.

Q: How can I say no to my child in a way that also draws him near?

Rabbi Landau answers: Every young married man and every Jewish family man should know this: raising children does not start with technique. It starts on the inside. Am I truly present with my children, both in my limits and in my warmth? Does my “no” come from a place of love, or from being tired and afraid? Is my “yes” real presence, or am I running away from responsibility? One practical step, here and now: the next time you say “no” to your child, say it with eyes that truly see him. A clear voice and a warm look. The left hand pushes away, and the right hand still holds on. This is how we raise upright children. This is how we build a generation.

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