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Last week while out shopping with my four year old daughter Rosie, I realized why my wife prefers to go shopping without the kids. Walking the aisles of my local grocery, Rosie spotted a candy that she insisted on buying. I firmly told her no, since the candy in question was not kosher. She promptly returned it to the shelf and that was that.

Our next stop was a clothing store where Rosie fancied a dress that, in her words, she absolutely had to have. Once again, I refused claiming that she did not need it. As if I had not spoken, Rosie put the dress on over her clothing and continued shopping with me.

As we approached the checkout, experience warned me to brace myself for an oncoming battle of wills. I told Rosie to take off the dress because we were not purchasing it. She refused, of course. When I insisted she remove the garment immediately, Rosie threw a tantrum right on the floor, screaming and shouting how badly she wanted the dress. Eventually I couldn’t refuse her anymore and so I bought it for her.

Later that evening, I was reflecting on the two incidents, wondering why Rosie had accepted my decision on the non-kosher candy without question, while the dress saga had turned into a nightmare. How had Rosie known that I could eventually be swayed to buy the dress? Why didn’t she employ the same tactics to get the candy?

When the reason dawned on me, I smiled because I realized it all boiled down to a successful education. Even though Rosie is only four years old, she senses that no matter how much she may scream, I will never allow her to eat a non-kosher item. It is a red line that will never be crossed. But Rosie understood that she stood a chance at the dress - and she was right.

This week’s parsha of Ki Tetze discusses the laws of warfare. The opening verse begins with the words, “When you go to war on your enemy...”. “Your enemy”, the Chassidic Masters explain, refers to the evil inclination buried deep within the heart of man; the war is an ongoing one that we struggle with every day. Yet the Torah gives us hope for victory, concluding the verse with the promise, “and G-d will deliver him into your hand... and you will take captives...”

The key to triumph against the sly inclination is to set up barriers, to establish red lines that will never be crossed. Each of us knows what our personal red lines ought to be, let us erect them and never fall prey.

This week while working in my office, I answered a phone call from a man frantically seeking a rabbi. He explained that his grandmother was minutes from passing away and needed a rabbi to attend to her on her deathbed. I double checked that I had in fact heard correctly, following which the fellow confessed that he had no money to his name. “It’s ok” I told him, “we’re not in it for the money.”

I grabbed a pair of tefillin and dashed to the nursing home. On the way over, the man told me that his aunt was keeping a bedside vigilance next to his grandmother. His own mother was not present because she hadn’t spoken to her sister in twenty years. Upon arriving at the hospital, I donned tefillin with the grandson and together we all recited the Shema Yisroel. As I said the viduy prayers with the dying woman, I began thinking about this powerful prayer.

The returning of one's soul to G-d at the end of its journey in this world is probably the most profound moment in a person's life. The viduy prayer, as well as the crucial setting in which it is recited, envelops one in an atmosphere of nostalgia, immersing him in a lifetime of memories. Waves of regret and sorrow wash over him, pricking him with the knowledge that he often allowed petty stupidities to overshadow the truly important things in life.

The Talmud draws our attention to a fascinating fact of life: while man enters the world with clenched fists, he departs from it with palms outstretched. The significance behind this, explain our sages, lies in the child’s acknowledgement of a lifetime to come, of conquests to be won and challenges to be conquered, whereas the dying man lets go of everything he ever held on to, taking nothing to the grave but the good deeds he performed throughout his life.

How often do we look back and remember not our material possessions and luxuries, but rather the relationships we have formed, both with G-d and with our fellow man. When a baby is born he cries and everyone around him smiles, how fortunate are those who die with a smile while those around them cry. Let us endeavour to live a life that we will one day reflect on with joy and satisfaction, a life free of guilt and regrets. You may have messed up before today, but always remember, it’s never too late to make a change. After all, today is the first day of the rest of your life.