HEART TO HEART Bedtime winds to a close and I sit myself on the edge of my son’s bed and take a deep breath. It’s speech time!

I’m putting laundry away in my nine-year-old son’s drawer. I need to make room so I pull out colored pencils juggling balls and some old candy wrappers. I reach a pile of drawings and I pause.

Hey I think to myself as I peruse a comic book he’s creating He’s pretty good. Maybe he has a future as an illustrator.

I take a closer look. What is this? Terrorists bombs shootings… every picture is of terror. My heart drops. We don’t even live in Eretz Yisrael. Is this what my son thinks about all day?

Maybe it’s his own form of art therapy I muse. After all terrorism is all around the globe. He must be scared growing up in this precarious world. He’s using art to work through his fears. I’ll have a talk with him at bedtime I decide.

What to tell him though? That’s the question. That Mommy’s also scared? No that’s not reassuring. That everything’s going to be okay? I can’t promise that. I wonder what all the parenting books have to say about this dilemma?

I could tell him what I tell myself — that Hashem has a plan for this world and we’re each an important piece of it. That together we are going to bring this world to completion even if some of us don’t make it. And that every Jew is bigger than himself — part of a nation and a piece of history.

Too heavy...

I could try — it’s there not here. And don’t worry. Hashem’s taking care of us…

Too fluffy.

Oh where are my seminary notes when I need them? How about — Hashem is completely good even when we can’t see it. I can throw in the viewing-the-wrong-side-of-the-tapestry mashal for good measure. And of course Hashem’s taking care of us.

Okay that works. I’m ready to take it on!

Bedtime winds to a close and I sit myself on the edge of my son’s bed and take a deep breath. It’s speech time!

“Hey” I say nonchalantly “I saw your drawings in your drawer today when I was putting away your clothes.”

My son perks up. “You like them?”

“Yeah” I say. “They’re really amazing!”

He looks pleased. He knows they’re amazing.

I continue “I see you’re drawing a lot of terrorists. Is that what the boys at school are talking about?”

My son opens his eyes wide. “Yeah of course! That’s all they talk about.”

“Are you feeling scared?” I ask him.

There’s a moment of silence as he gives me a puzzled look. “Why would I be scared?” he asks looking confused.

Um… because your mother is! Because there are crazy ruthless violent people and the world is supporting them. And because this madly spinning Earth is nothing like the predictable peaceful world of my youth…