"True humility consists of humbling oneself of those beneath him, such as his servants, the members of his household, and those poor people who are fed and helped by him and whom he does not need or fear. And if one humbles himself before orphans, widows, and converts and bears their trials and burdens, and hears himself degraded but does not answer because of his great humility, he is manifesting a very high order of that trait." (ORCHOT TZADDIKIM, The Ways of the Tzaddikim)

Giving advice can be done in many ways. What is the intent behind giving advice? To make sure something happens the way we want? To show we know best? To illustrate our intelligence or competence? Or to ensure the person does what is best for them? It is easy to let our ego dictate how we react. If we truly withdraw from the situation and think about the other person's needs we might behave differently.

Keep in mind the phrase:

"No more than my space, no less than my place"

The following excerpts are from the book:

"How to Talk So Kids Will Listen & Listen So Kids Will Talk", by Adele Faber & Elaine Mazlish

As much as we understand the importance of our children being independent, there are forces within us that work against it. First, there's the matter of sheer convenience. Most of us today are busy and in a hurry. We usually wake the children ourselves, button their buttons, tell them what to eat and what to wear, because it seems so much easier and faster to do it for them.

Then we have to cope with our strong feelings of connectedness to our children. We have to fight against seeing their failures as our failures. It's hard to allow those so close and dear to us to struggle and make mistakes, when we're certain that a few words of wisdom could protect them from pain or disappointment.

It also takes great restraint and self-discipline on our part not to move in with advice, particularly when we're sure we have the answer. I know that to this day whenever one of my children asks, "Mom, what do you think I should do?" I have to sit on myself not to tell them immediately what I think they should do.

But there's something even larger that interferes with our rational desire to help our children separate from us. I remember so well the deep satisfaction that came from being so totally needed by three small human beings. And so it was with mixed feelings that I discovered that a mechanical alarm clock could wake my kids more efficiently than all of my motherly reminding. And it was also with mixed feelings that I gave up my job as reader of bedtime stories, when the children finally learned to read by themselves.

THE MUSSAR INSTITUTE HUMILITY A MIDDAH A MONTH

It was my my own conflicting emotions about their growing independence that helped me understand a story told to me by a nursery school teacher. The teacher described her efforts to convince a young mother that her son really would be fine if she wasn't sitting in the classroom with him. Five minutes after the mother left, it became obvious that little Jonathan needed to head for the bathroom. When the teacher urged him to go, he mumbled unhappily, "Can't."

She asked, "Why not?"

"Cause my Mommy isn't there," Jonathan explained. "She claps for me when I finish." The teacher thought a moment. "Jonathan, you can go to the bathroom and then clap for yourself."

Jonathan looked wide-eyed.

The teacher led him to the bathroom and waited. After a few minutes, from behind the closed door, she heard the sound of applause.

Later that day the mother called her to say that the first words out of Jonathan's mouth when he came home were, "Mommy, I can clap for myself. I don't need you anymore!"

"Would you believe it," the teacher exclaimed to me, "The mother said she was actually depressed about this."

I could believe it. I could believe that despite our feelings of pride in our children's progress and joy in their growing independence, there could also be the ache and the emptiness of no longer being needed.

It's a bittersweet road we parents travel. We start with total commitment to a small, helpless human being. Over the years we worry, plan, comfort, and try to understand. We give our love, our labor, our knowledge and our experience - so that one day he or she will have the inner strength and confidence to leave us."

No more than my space, no less than my place

THE MUSSAR INSTITUTE HUMILITY A MIDDAH A MONTH

THE MUSSAR INSTITUTE HUMILITY A MIDDAH A MONTH

THE MUSSAR INSTITUTE HUMILITY A MIDDAH A MONTH