07 Jul FAMILY FIRST

My mother, Rebbetzin Esther Jungreis a”h,
was shul rebbetzin, Torah teacher, and
mentor to countless. She was known for her
listening ear, sage advice and kind heart.
Many would turn to her for guidance and
inspiration.
In my mother’s first book, The Jewish Soul
on Fire, she shared the story of Laurie, a
young doctor about to marry. Long before
the concept of “Work-Life-Balance” came
into vogue, Laurie was worried about
juggling her professional responsibilities
with her personal life, between being a
dedicated doctor and a (future) devoted
mother. Though she was not yet married,
she was concerned that career demands
would overwhelm time needed for family.
And then the tears began to flow. Laurie
shared a story that happened when she was
just 12, but the memory never left her. She
told of her parents going off every winter
for vacation, leaving her with the
housekeeper. One year, a few days before
they were to leave, the housekeeper quit.

Laurie’s mother was beside herself. In the
last minute, she found a highly
recommended replacement. Laurie watched
as her mother prepared for the trip, packing
her suitcase, at the same time hiding her
valuables. Laurie’s mom turned to her and
said, “You can never trust new help”.
Laurie told the Rebbetzin about the sick
feeling she felt inside. As much as her
mother tried to reassure her that all would
be good, that pit in her stomach wouldn’t
go away. She said that it never occurred to
her mother that she was entrusting her child
with the same new help.
Laurie’s story may sound like a modern
dilemma, but it is anything but new. Shlomo
HaMelech reminds us, “Ein chadash tachas
hashemesh, There is nothing new under the
sun.” (Koheles 1:9) The tension between
material concerns and family priorities
appears already in this week’s parsha.
We read in parshas Matos about how
members of the shevatim of Reuven and
Gad faced the very same struggle. Bnei
Yisroel are on the final leg of their long
journey to the Promised Land. The tribes of
Reuven and Gad were blessed with much

livestock, and in need of abundant
and fertile grazing land. The
Midrash notes that the issue was
not that Reuven and Gad owned
more livestock than everyone
else, but that they assigned greater
importance to it. They saw the
land east of the Jordan River. It
was perfect for their needs. They
approached Moshe with a request.
Could they settle there instead of
crossing the river and settling in
Eretz Yisroel proper.
Moshe is pained by their request.
Using just a few words, he
responds with a powerful
message. A message of unity and solidarity.
A message of a strong nation being there
for each other. “Ha’ah’cheichem yavo’u
la’milchama, v’atem teishvu poh, Shall
your brothers go out to battle, while you
remain here?” (Bamidbar 32:6)
Ha’ah’cheichem, your brothers. Moshe
reminds the members of Reuven and Gad
that they are part of a nation where all are
brothers. Brothers who care and are
concerned about each other. Brothers who
don’t abandon one another.
The tribes of Reuven and Gad responded
with a plan of their own. “Vayigshu”,
they came close to Moshe, saying, “We
will build pens for our sheep and cities
for our children”. (Bamidbar 32:16) They
would leave their families and possessions
behind, while they joined their brothers
in conquering and settling the land.
Moshe was troubled by their answer.
While most would not pick up on the
subtleness of the order in which they
described their plan, Moshe responded
with a soft rebuke for giving precedence
to their possessions over their children.
He repeated their words, placing
emphasis on the children before the flock.
“Build for yourselves cities for your
children and pens for your flock.”
(Bamidbar 32:24). Moshe was conveying
a timeless life lesson. A lesson in
priorities. Family first. Children before
material possessions. To their credit, the
Tribes of Reuven and Gad accepted
Moshe’s words.
And how did the Rebbetzin respond to
Laurie, how did she calm her troubled
spirit? Ever so gently, my mother
explained that it wasn’t a matter of giving
up on one’s career, but it was a matter of
correctly placed priorities. The solution
was in Laurie’s own words. What hurt
Laurie most was growing up in a home
where priorities were never clearly

defined. To Laurie, it appeared as if
possessions and having a good time came
first, with the children being secondary.
My mother’s advice to Laurie was to build
her career around her child. “If you raise
your children with the knowledge that they
are the most important part of your life,
then they will feel secure and confident in
your love. It is only when children sense
that they are secondary, that they feel
betrayed and neglected.”
My mother’s message to Laurie is a
message we should all internalize. One
should never feel insecure about being a
Jewish parent. It’s up to us to partner with
HaShem in raising our children, to build on
our homes based on Torah values. To
recognize that our legacy lies in our
children and not in our possessions. As the
Talmud teaches, “Al tikrei banayhich elah
bonayich, Do not read it as your children,
but as your builders”. (Brachos 64a)
One need not be a doctor to struggle with
competing demands on our time, our
energy, and our attention. Every one of us is
pulled in different directions by work,
finances, responsibilities, and countless
distractions. The challenge is not whether
these obligations exist, but whether we
allow them to determine our priorities.
Moshe’s message to the tribes of Reuven
and Gad remains as relevant today as it was
then. “Lo chein, this is not the proper way.
Asu haikar ikar, v’hataful taful, Make the
primary, primary and the secondary,
secondary.” (Rashi, Bamidbar 32:16)
Careers matter. Livelihood matters.
Possessions have their place. But our
children, our families, and the values we
transmit to them are our true legacy. If
those closest to us know that they come
first—not merely by what we say, but by
the choices we make, then we will have
learned Moshe’s lesson and fulfilled the
timeless message my mother sought to
teach: Family first.