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.”