My oldest daughter just finished seminary and needed to decide what to do next. Some girls go to college, some travel, others begin their careers. My daughter wanted to work in a Chabad House.
At first, I thought it would be best for her to spread her wings and work at a Chabad center somewhere else in the world, far away from Manhattan. This would give her the opportunity to learn, grow, and explore life on her own. And there’s so much to absorb in any Chabad House: new skills, new perspectives, new ways of doing things.
But then I asked myself: why should she work in someone else’s Chabad House when my wife and I need so much help in ours? And truthfully, she can learn plenty right here. We run a relatively large operation, with a preschool, a shul, adult education classes, programming for young professionals, and Belev Echad for wounded IDF soldiers. There’s no shortage of things to do, and our office is always buzzing with activity.
My daughter was on board, and so she started working last week.
Watching her step into the mission that my wife and I have poured our hearts into is not only deeply moving - it is also so much fun.
Last year, I would call my daughter on my way to work in the morning and maybe catch her on a video call from seminary. But now, we walk side by side, having real, in-depth conversations on the way. Then, at the end of the day, we walk home together.
It feels surreal. We moved to the Upper East Side almost 20 years ago when my daughter was just a baby, so in a very real sense, she grew up inside this Chabad House.
Typically, we dream of our children becoming independent and carving out a path of their own. That itself is a blessing. But there’s an even deeper kind of joy when a child, out of all the options the world has to offer, decides that your mission is their mission too. Not because they have to or because it was expected, but because they want to.
It’s one thing to hand something down. It’s another thing entirely when the next generation picks it up with excitement and ownership. This is the nachas every Jewish parent longs for. We invest so much into building our homes, our families and our communities, and the greatest blessing is seeing a child say, “I want to be part of this too. I want to help carry it forward.”
That’s when you know you’ve built something eternal.
The Torah describes how all of Israel stood together before G-d, “... your heads, your tribes, your elders, your children.” The mission of Torah was never meant for one generation alone. It’s a chain, passed lovingly from parent to child, strengthened anew each time it passes over.
And what better message for Rosh Hashanah? On this day, when we stand before G-d and hear the piercing cry of the shofar, we do not stand alone. We stand as links in an eternal chain, carrying forth the mission of our parents and grandparents, and praying that our children will carry it forward too.
This year, may we all merit the greatest nachas of all: not just building lives of meaning, but seeing the next generation embrace that mission with us.
Wishing you a shana tova u’metuka—a year of joy, blessing, and endless nachas from our children.