Giving Up On Rebellious Children? (Part One)
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Based on the response to my recent columns, it seems the problem of parents struggling with rebellious children may be more prevalent than even the pessimists among us had assumed. As we approach Pesach, the great yom tov during which we confront the Haggadah’s four sons – one wise, one wicked, one simple and one who does not know how to ask – we need to remember that these sons are in our midst in every generation and that we invite all four to join us at the Seder.
Here are some excerpts from one of the letters I received, followed by my response:
Dear Rebbetzin Jungreis,
I read your last two columns with tears. Unfortunately, I understand the problem all too well. My husband has completely given up on our rebellious son, who has turned his back on us and on his faith.
When my husband read your advice to the mother whose son was so openly anti-religious, he was skeptical.
“It sounds real good but in real time it doesn’t work,” he said. “Kids today are different. They are abusive – their chutzpah has no bounds and they do not know what the word ‘respect’ means. They think everything is coming to them. If you read the Rebbetzin’s column carefully you will see that she doesn’t really give an illustration of someone who descended to the lowest and came back.”
Rebbetzin, I’m in awe of your work. I have followed you for many years but my husband has washed his hands of our son. I would be so grateful if you could relate some of your experiences with young people who have hit bottom and come back.
My Dear Friend,
Tragically, I have too many stories. Our contemporary society breeds degeneracy and decadence. I will share one of these painful situations that at first appeared completely hopeless and yet ended with blessings.
I was on my way to a speaking engagement when a gentleman approached me and asked, “Aren’t you Rebbetzin Jungreis?” We exchanged pleasantries and then he said, “I have a job for you. You must go to Las Vegas immediately.”
He explained that he did not travel to Las Vegas to gamble but for business reasons. A young man there from a respectable family, he said, was “all messed up and headed for disaster.”
By this time I was used to having people approach me seeking help for troubled children. My schedule was such, however, that it was not realistic for me to go there. I suggested he bring the young man to me. “Forget that,” he answered. “He’ll never listen! If anything, he’ll laugh in my face.”
A few weeks after that chance meeting, a dignified woman in her late forties came to seek my help at our Hineni Torah class.
“Rebbetzin,” she said, “I have serious problems. My son got involved with the wrong group of friends and left home. He went to Las Vegas.”
I was instantly reminded of my recent conversation with the gentleman who approached me on my way to that speaking engagement. The coincidence was striking. The woman went on to say, “And if things were not bad enough, he got himself into some trouble with the police. I don’t exactly know what he did but he’s in real trouble. My husband has had it with him and refuses to even engage an attorney for his defense.”
“Parents can never give up on a child,” I said. “Fathers and mothers have no option but to try to help their sons and daughters. Do what you have to, but get him back to New York and bring him to me.”
As I was telling her this I remembered a story my maternal grandfather, the rosh yeshiva Rabbi Tzvi Hirsh Kohn, zt”l, once told me. It was about the Rebbe of Tzernovitz, who had a rebellious son. The members of his congregation were so outraged by the boy’s behavior that they appointed a committee to take the matter up with the Rebbe himself. They were certain that once he was aware of the problem he would banish his son from the community.
It was a few days before Yom Kippur when they went to the Rebbe’s house. They found him immersed in penitential prayers. They could hear his voice through the door:
“Almighty G-d, I know that we, Your people, are not deserving of Your favor. We have transgressed Your commandments – but nevertheless I beseech You to bless us with a year of good and plenty. And should You respond that I have no basis on which to make such a request since we are not deserving of Your favor, then I will tell you frankly what others may not. I too am a father, and my son has also rebelled against me. And yet if someone were to suggest that I disown him, that I cast him away from my sight, I would throw that person out, for no matter what, he is still my son.”
The members of the committee trembled with shame. Without uttering a word they left. Unbeknownst to the Rebbe and the committee, the errant son had also heard his father’s prayer. Unable to contain himself, he cried inconsolably and made a silent vow to justify his father’s unbounded love.
I told this troubled mother that story. “Oh, Rebbetzin,” she said as tears flowed down her cheeks. “I will tell this story to my husband and I hope he will come around. But do you think you will be able to reach my son?”
“We have to pray for it,” I told her. “We need a miracle but I can assure you I will try my best, and let’s hope G-d will grant me the words with which to open his heart.”
A few days later she called me. I had difficulty understanding what she was saying. Her uncontrolled weeping choked her words. “Rebbetzin,” she gasped, “my husband refuses to retain an attorney on behalf of our son.” He actually said, ‘Let him rot in jail.’ What do I do?”
“Go to all the members of your family and your trusted friends,” I replied. “Tell them your story and ask them to help.”
“Rebbetzin,” she whispered, “I’m ashamed to do that. They all know he is troubled but this they do not know.”
“When it comes to saving your son’s life,” I told her, “there’s no room for shame or embarrassment. G-d forbid if he ends up in jail and comes under the influence of thieves and murderers, he will emerge worse than ever. And I won’t even speak of situations of abuse that occur in prison. Your son is young and impressionable. In such an environment he could easily lose the last flicker of decency he may still have. So we have to do everything in our human capacity to save him. The rest is up to G-d.”
I told her that my saintly father, HaRav HaGoan HaTzaddik Avraham HaLevi Jungreis, zt”l, always reminded us in difficult times of G-d’s promise: “U’verachtecha – and I shall bless you in everything that you will do.”
My father would explain, “You have only to do all that you can within your power and the berochos will come from Hashem.”
I told the anguished woman that I had always tried to keep my father’s teaching in mind throughout life’s trials and challenges. She whispered, “Rebbetzin, I promise you I will try.”
(To Be Continued)
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