Shattered   

Rochel Leah burst into tears. Dina looked at her student more closely and was horrified to note red marks on her cheeks. Tightening her arm around the little girl’s shoulders, she gently asked, “Did someone hit you, sweetheart?” Silence.

“That’s how it goes,” Dina sighed. “Children always protect their parents.”

Dina called Rochel Leah’s mother and told her that Rochel Leah was crying inconsolably.

“It’s fine,” her mother said firmly. “That’s how she’ll learn — if it hurts, she won’t do it again. You know what she did? She got up this morning and snuck a cookie! Before she’d washed netilas yadayim! In our house, that’s completely unacceptable.”

“I’m never at a loss for words,” Dina recalls. “But after that, I was speechless. I worried that if I told her how wrong this was, she’d decide I wasn’t an acceptable role model. But how could I stay silent?”

Dina stammered out a response — she doesn’t remember what — and tried to collect her wits. At the end of the day, she called Rochel Leah’s mother again, and arranged for a meeting.