It happened at a Shabbos sheva brachos that I recently attended. What I saw there left me with such an amazing feeling and such a sense of optimism that I feel the need to share it.

I recently had occasion to attend a simcha in a European community. It so happened that the chosson had a younger brother, a 12th-grade bochur, who invited several friends from his yeshiva to come over for dessert. It was clear that this yeshiva was not a “cookie-cutter” one, because the bochurim who came didn’t all look the same. Some had longer hair, some had shorter hair, some wore black hats, and some didn’t.

One thing that united them, however, was that all the boys sang together beautifully, leading a kumzitz-style singing session before bentching.

I was enjoying watching these bochurim being mesamei’ach and being b’simcha in their own right when, suddenly, I noticed them all turn their heads toward the head table, where the chosson was sitting.

Their eyes lit up.

I then heard them excitedly exclaim to one another, “Look, R’ Yitzy* came!”

They seemed genuinely excited!

I turned toward the head table and saw R’ Yitzy. He looked like a yungerman in his early thirties, at most. There was a perpetual smile on his face, and it was clear that he was a ball of energy. I found out that R’ Yitzy was the rebbi of these boys, and he was obviously a very important part of their lives. When I saw him at the head table, he was hugging the chosson, who had been his talmid just a couple of years earlier.

After greeting the chosson, he came over to sit with his boys. Before sitting down, however, he hugged each one of them and told each one something positive.

I sat there amazed, simply watching this magic unfold.

I saw the clear, unbridled admiration that these bochurim had for their rebbi as he sat with them and sang. While the olam was singing, R’ Yitzy stopped several times to tell one talmid a vort and another talmid a piece of advice.

As I took it all in, I found myself thinking, “Wow! These kids are lucky! What a rebbi!”

After bentching, I walked over and wished R’ Yitzy shalom aleichem. Since I was probably old enough to be his father, I took the liberty of asking him, “R’ Yitzy, tell me, how do you do it? How do you have such an amazing rapport with these bochurim, and how is it that they hang on to your every word?”

Without pausing for even a second, he simply replied, “Because I love them. I love each of them and I also love the Torah that I am transmitting to them. If you really love them and love the Torah that you are giving over to them, it is impossible for it not to penetrate.”

He then continued: “I am afraid that I am going to have to ask you to excuse me, because I have to speak to a bochur. I love this bochur, but I still have to discipline him about something.”

With that, he walked away. I watched as he put his arm around a bochur and gently steered him to a quiet corner of the room for a conversation.

The Imperative to Love One’s Talmidim – From the Rambam

As I replayed the experience on the plane ride home, I couldn’t get R’ Yitzy’s image out of my head. I also kept picturing the faces of his talmidim and the pure admiration I had seen shining from them.

The thought that kept returning to me was, “Wow! This is the way a rebbi is meant to reach a talmid in 2026!”

Then another thought struck me. I realized that this ideal did not originate in 2026. More than a thousand years ago, the Rambam wrote, “Just like a talmid is obligated to give honor to his rebbi, so is a rebbi obligated to honor and love his talmidim.”

Now, I also had rabbeim who loved me, but the difference between today and yesteryear is that the rabbeim of old did not communicate their love in an overt way. Even parents did not openly communicate their love to their children. Once upon a time, physical expressions of love from father to son were often not shown openly. Certainly, that was true of the rabbeim as well.

Times Have Changed

Today’s young people are very different. This generation has a particular vulnerability. They need to see the love and feel the love in order to know that it exists. They are desperate for approval, validation, and even admiration. If they don’t receive a broad smile from their parents, rabbeim, or teachers, they begin to wonder, “Are my parents, rebbi, or teacher angry at me? Does he or she really like me?”

There was a time when a subtle message of love or admiration conveyed by a parent, rebbi, or teacher came through clearly and was understood. In today’s world, however, parents, rabbeim, and teachers must communicate that message of love and admiration openly and unmistakably, because without that validation, a child or talmid feels emotionally empty.

If, on top of that, a parent, rebbi, or teacher communicates criticism, or even a straightforward instruction such as, “We are not going to go on the trip until you do such and such…,” the child may become deeply upset and think, “Why doesn’t _______ like me?”

The Scream That…Wasn’t

Not long ago, I was giving mussar to one of my younger children about something. He immediately responded in a hurt and puzzled tone, “Totty, why are you screaming at me?”

At that moment, I realized that things had changed. In truth, I was not screaming. He simply experienced the criticism as a scream because he was so sensitive to criticism and to not always finding favor in my eyes. To him, it truly sounded like a scream, even though my actual volume was quite low.

The Oxygen for Today’s Youth

This past Thursday night, Torah Umesorah featured a nationwide lecture via Zoom on chinuch presented by Rav Avrohom Anisfeld, a longtime menahel and mechanech of mechanchim from Lakewood.

Throughout his lecture, Rav Anisfeld repeatedly emphasized that today’s generation is desperate for validation and admiration. That need can be met by peers, parents, rabbeim, teachers, and really by anyone.

As important as that validation is when it comes from friends or rabbeim, it is infinitely more important when it comes from parents. It is not merely important. It is critical. It is their lifeline. It is like the oxygen they need in order to breathe.

What many of us fail to realize is that, for many of our children and teenagers, the deeply rooted feeling is: “What Totty or Mommy thinks about me is the purpose of my life. I have to make them proud of me and feel good about me.”

If our children and teens do not receive that validation and those expressions of approval and admiration, they can become angry, anxious, and emotionally shut down. This is a critical emotional need.

Gentle Guidance Packaged with Love

At this point, some readers may think that I have crossed over to the progressive left and I am advocating that we never criticize or guide a child or talmid. Nothing could be further from the truth.

We absolutely must continue to guide our children and, when necessary, tell a child or talmid that his conduct needs improvement. But—and this is a very big but—today, more than ever, we must know how to communicate criticism and expectations.

Our expectations—and even our criticisms—must be packaged with gentleness. They should be delivered in a gentle tone and, whenever possible, even with a smile. Even when making a demand, it should be presented positively, not in an accusatory or harsh manner.

Yes, every generation is different, and every generation has its own nisyonos and challenges. Therefore, for a parent, rebbi, or teacher to say, “That is not the way it was when I was young,” is not productive. More importantly, it simply won’t work.

That is why I was filled with such chizuk when I watched the way R’ Yitzy interacted with his bochurim at that sheva brachos. He showed them unmistakably how much he loved them. You could see it in his eyes and in his body language that he truly, deeply loved them.

At the very same time, while expressing that love so openly, he was also able to take a bochur aside and offer him positive tochacha in a way that would be accepted, without the bochur ever questioning for a moment that he was loved.

Now that is chinuch.

That is the chinuch of 2026: a combination of ahavah and yirah, with a very generous dose of ahavah enveloping it all.