Bein hameitzarim the three weeks between the fast days of the 17th of Tammuz and Tishah B’Av marks the period of the year when the Jewish People focus on the catastrophic destruction of the Beis Hamikdash. Indeed our dismal title “aveilei Tzion v’Yerushalayim” brings home the message that each and every Jew is in mourning over this tragic loss. As such this is a fitting time to deepen our understanding of the plight of the yesomim the children among us who have suffered the loss of a parent lo aleinu.

The Torah stresses the importance of understanding the needs of the yasom and some personal experiences have granted me deeper insight into this mitzvah. The first experience was when I was in fifth grade and our rebbi accompanied us to visit “Menachem” a classmate who was sitting shivah upon the abrupt unexpected loss of his father. Silence weighed heavily in the room as our young group sat awkwardly around our orphaned friend no one quite sure of what to say or how to act. Suddenly one boy pulled out a magnetic toy from his pocket and asked Menachem if he would like to see how it works. Menachem excitedly acknowledged that he would and with that the ice was broken and we all began chatting like normal fifth graders.

It took three decades and a meeting with a young man I’ll call Eliezer for me to appreciate the lessons of that encounter.

Eliezer who had recently lost his father was sharing with me the difficulties he was encountering while settling in at his new yeshivah. When I expressed to Eliezer my initial assumption that his friends were acting insensitively to his situation I was surprised to learn that the opposite was true. Actually the bochurim were treating him wonderfully — and that was the issue. Eliezer tearfully described his intense feelings of embarrassment at being an orphan. He was convinced that whenever he entered a room people were looking at him as “the yasom.” He felt that people treated and spoke to him differently. Likewise when he was a guest at a Shabbos meal he was certain that he was accorded special treatment. I reflected that although Eliezer was no longer an avel by halachic standards emotionally he was still “sitting on the floor ” uncomfortable with everyone else encircling him. Over the years I have met other yesomim who expressed similar discomfort about feeling different and were certain that they were accorded special treatment because people pitied them.

Often the most comforting thought I can offer these boys is that most people don’t even know their story. I reassure them that they do not wear “yasom signs” on their clothing and that they are not a magnet attracting sympathy from strangers. And while some people innocently overdo their handling of yesomim many people and organizations are careful to tend to the needs of the yasom with sensitivity but without overt displays of pity.

Another issue that yesomim often struggle with is guilt. They may take partial or complete responsibility for their tragic loss even if the notion is irrational. Children are often sure that had they behaved spoken or even thought differently their parent would still be around. These beliefs tend to gain substantiation as the family deals with the myriad of challenges that follows the petirah as they attempt to restructure their lives. Sadly the child might blame himself for everything that goes wrong after the passing of the parent.

Perhaps greater than the challenges of feeling different or guilty is the challenge the yasom faces in the restructuring of his immediate family. When a person passes away the surviving spouse faces the formidable task of filling the gaping void left by the niftar. This task falls on the children as well to some extent. The loss of a father has the son thinking that he must begin to lead the family and take responsibility for the wellbeing of his mother and siblings. Likewise the loss of a mother may cause the daughter to assume that she has to maintain the house take charge of the cooking and nurture all the other family members. At times these are not merely perceptions of the children but actual expectations that are expressed to them. In either case there is a substantial risk of role confusion that can cause serious damage to the child’s developing psyche.

The loss of a parent invariably requires the surviving family members to take on various new tasks but there is a huge difference between sharing responsibilities and taking on roles. Children often miss this distinction however and confuse their new responsibilities with taking on the role of the deceased parent. A typical display of role confusion is when the child assumes that he bears the burden of making decisions for the family. The decisions he feels obligated to make can vary from simply deciding where the family will be spending their Shabbos meals to more crucial issues such as whether to move to a new home or even whether the surviving spouse should remarry. The stress and liability of these decisions weigh heavily on the yasom.

Ultimately the most pervasive feeling that a yasom grapples with is the feeling of loneliness and abandonment. On top of that he still has to deal with the regular life issues he struggled with previously. The loss of a parent does not replace existing issues it compounds them. Now in addition to whatever else was going on in his life he has to deal with an unfathomable loss. The one thing that the orphan needs more than anything else is probably the sage advice that his father would have given him or the warm comforting hug he would have received from his mother — the one thing that he can no longer obtain.

What can we do to help? As caring friends we need to try to understand the whirlpool of emotions that these children are struggling with. We have to allow them to share their feelings and listen to them with compassion rather than offer opinions or judge their comments. We need to be sensitive to their pain while maintaining a normal relationship with them. Most of all we need to impart a clear message that we are committed to being a listening ear for them no matter how impossible it is for us to truly understand their situation.

A number of years ago a group of bochurim asked for advice before making a shivah phone call to a close friend overseas. I suggested that they go in with no expectations as to how their friend might react. Following the call a boy came to thank me for the advice. “In the middle of our conversation he just went silent and hung up. Baruch Hashem instead of getting personally insulted I felt good that I achieved my goal by allowing my friend to know that even when he is unable to speak to me I was there for him with a listening ear.”

The yasom finds himself in a predicament that is totally unnatural. He knows that things are supposed to be different and he finds himself looking upward waiting for Hashem to comfort him and restore his life to the way it once was.

And this is something that each one of us aveilei Tzion should feel as we await the ultimate return to Yerushalayim. 

Rabbi Nesanel (Volvey) Rand is a rebbi in Yeshivas Mikdash Melech Yerushalayim. He is a certified family therapist specializing in anxieties OCD and depression.