It’s three weeks shy of the end of my fourth year teaching fourth grade of my synagogue’s religious school. Today, we had the Shavuot “board game,” a first for this holiday, but not the first one we’ve had in the last four years. Our director of education from time to time has all of the students get together in the social hall, where they have to answer a series of questions and perform a series of tasks about a holiday or about a theme. Classes work together to perform tasks, and judges award points and send them off to do the next task. The younger students like it, because it’s a game. The oldest students aren’t as enthusiastic, but they want to win out of a sense of honor. They are horrified if they lose to younger classes. I can never make up my mind if I like the board games or not. But today — today, I think I decided I like them.
One of the tasks the children needed to do today was think of five good concepts that the Torah has given us. They were given a list of five examples, which included the main themes that they already knew (and which annoyed me, because I thought it made the task far too difficult for fourth graders). So there we sat, discussing the Torah, and I had to keep saying, “No, that was on the list of examples. Think of something else.” It’s difficult to lead students without giving them too much of a hint or an answer, so I asked my students, “Well, think of where we would be without the Torah. What would life be without it?”
One of my students immediately piped up, “We wouldn’t be Jews!”
Another one said, “And there wouldn’t be any Christians!” “Or Muslims!”
This answer really impressed the judge, who was a parent of two of my students. I thought it was good that they’d said it, but I attributed it to my hints. Funny thing, though. When I was telling this story to Sarah, it hit me: It wasn’t the hint. It was me. They learned that through our many discussions of the Torah, and the 613 mitzvot (commandments). They learned that because I taught them that two of the world’s most popular religions sprang from Judaism. They knew the answer to that question, because it is a lesson I tried very hard to impart on them throughout the year.
I have a problem accepting compliments. It takes me a while to acknowledge that I did anything worth complimenting.
But dammit, I did good this year.
My students came in second. Seventh grade, the most advanced class — my first year’s class, in fact — finished all 14 tasks and got the highest number of points. Daled class came in second at ten tasks and 300 points. They beat fifth and sixth grade, who have years more experience and knowledge.
And I am very proud of them.
It’s good to see your efforts come to fruition.
… and in the same vein as the famous mishna, your satisfaction is just the “dividend” of your mitzvah, the capital is still heaped up for you in the “world to come”.
One interpretation of the “World to Come” is that it is this world, which is slowly progressing to perfection. Particularly apt to the mitzvah of Jewish education, which builds for the future.