Rav Shlomo Freifeld zt”l named one of his children Avraham Mordechai. He once explained one intention behind the name: “Avraham Avinu is the first Yid on record, and Mordechai HaTzaddik was the last Yid in Tanach. Ido’il az ehr zohl zein a Yid dorch un dorch, I want this child to be a Yid through and through.”
When I first read this story, I wondered if I’d ever hoped for this for my children. Sure, I want them to do all the classically “Jewish” things. Davening, learning, chesed, arguing and figuring out how to get a better deal on plane tickets.
But clearly Rabbi Freifeld was saying more. There’s a Jewish way to do everything in life. Jewish arguing means listening to the other person as if he might actually be right, even when you “know” he’s wrong. Jewish eating means treating the table like it’s a mizbe’ach rather than a hot-dog-eating contest (I mean, unless it is). Jewish driving means not honking 0.2 seconds after the light turns green.
And it’s no small accomplishment. The more we do this, the more our kids will. They watch what we do very, very closely because they also want to know how to live life as Jews.
The opportunity — and responsibility — is constant. If we lose our temper and then apologize, they learn that a Yid owns up to a mistake. When we stop to help someone with a flat tire, they learn that a Yid doesn’t leave someone stranded. When we say “I don’t know,” they learn that a Yid values truth over ego.
Rabbi Freifeld didn’t want his son to be someone who has Judaism as one part of his life. He wanted him to be someone whose entire life is Judaism. From Avraham to Mordechai. Morning to night. Shul and supermarket. A Yid, dorch un dorch, through and through.
This article was found in Nekuda Tova Issue 56.
