1. Half an Hour a Day: The Torah Obligation of Parenting[1]

The Rebbe Rashab taught a profoundly powerful principle, recorded by the Rebbe and Rebbe Rayatz on multiple occasions: just as it is a mitzvah to put on tefillin [and Daven[2]] every single day, so too it is a mitzvah incumbent upon every parent to dedicate at least half[3] an hour each[4] day to thinking[5] seriously about the education and spiritual development of their children [both boys and girls[6]].

Elaboration on the Educational Lesson: From this short but far‑reaching teaching, we learn a crucial principle about chinuch (education): it is not sufficient to approach education passively or sporadically, nor is it enough to “learn a book” or philosophy of education from beginning to end and assume the job is done. Education, like tefillin, is a daily obligation. Just as tefillin must be put on anew each morning—with attention, intention, and presence—so too a parent’s responsibility to their child must be renewed each day. The Rebbe’s comparison is deliberate: tefillin is not fulfilled by yesterday’s act, and neither is chinuch fulfilled by yesterday’s insight.

This teaches that effective education requires:

• Constant review and engagement – A parent must repeatedly revisit the principles, values, and methods they are using, reassessing what works, what doesn’t, and what needs adjustment.
• Ongoing awareness – Children change, mature, and face new challenges. When a parent is regularly thinking about their child, they remain “on the edge” of awareness—sensitive to shifts in behavior, needs, and opportunities for guidance.
• Deliberate reflection, not just action – The Rebbe stresses thinking for half an hour each day. This conveys that chinuch is not only about reacting or correcting, but about thoughtful planning, foresight, and intentional direction.
• Exerting effort beyond one’s comfort – The phrase “to do everything in his power, and more than his power” implies that true chinuch demands mesirat nefesh—stretching oneself emotionally, intellectually, and spiritually for the sake of the child.

In practical terms, this means that a parent should continually “cycle through” the different aspects of their child’s education—emunah, middos, learning habits, emotional well‑being, social growth—rather than assuming that once something was addressed, it no longer needs attention. Just as one reviews Torah again and again and finds new depth each time, reviewing one’s approach to parenting keeps the parent alert, responsive, and effective. Ultimately, the Rebbe Rashab is teaching that chinuch is a living avodah. When a parent consistently reflects, reviews, and recalibrates, they are far more likely to successfully guide their children to truly walk in the path they are being shown—internally, authentically, and for life.

Translation of Hayom Yom 22nd Teves

“Just as the daily laying of tefillin is a Torah obligation upon every Jew—without distinction between a great Torah scholar and a simple person—so too there is a complete and absolute obligation upon every Jew to devote half an hour every day to thinking about the education of children, and to do everything within one’s power, and even beyond one’s power, to ensure that the children truly walk in the path in which they are being guided.”

2. Davening for healthy children that follow the path of Torah:[7]

It is proper for one to Daven daily that the words of Torah do not cede from his mouth or the mouth of his children and that all of his descendants be true servants of Hashem. [One of the most fundamental elements of chinuch—and of success in raising healthy children—is involving Hashem directly. This means turning to Him every single day, asking and beseeching Him to guide our children along the proper path and to protect their physical, spiritual, and emotional well‑being. As much effort as parents invest—planning, teaching, guiding, and caring—there is a limit to what human initiative alone can achieve. The need for Divine assistance, for true siyata diShmaya, cannot be overstated. Personal tefillah on behalf of one’s children is not merely a good practice; it is a positive directive in the Torah as part of the Mitzvah to daven to Hashem for one’s personal needs. And what greater or more meaningful purpose can prayer have than seeking goodness, protection, clarity, and growth for one’s own children? When a parent davens sincerely for their children, they acknowledge a profound truth: that chinuch is ultimately a partnership between human responsibility and Divine guidance, and that lasting success flows from aligning the two.]

Candle lighting:[8] A most auspicious time for this prayer is upon lighting candles on Erev Shabbos.

 

3. Being a Role Model:[9]

One of the most essential foundations of chinuch is a parent’s role as a living role model. Beyond davening for our children, sending them to good yeshivos, providing materially, and teaching them right from wrong, there is a fundamental question a parent must constantly ask himself: Do I live what I teach? There is no greater contradiction, and no greater source of confusion or damage, than a parent who demands standards from a child that he himself does not uphold. Children are exquisitely sensitive to inconsistency. When a parent speaks about tznius but conducts himself in ways that undermine it, when he warns against dishonesty yet casually bends the truth, or when he insists on kavod, self-control, or Torah values but behaves otherwise under pressure, the child internalizes not the words—but the behavior. Even when a parent is struggling with a particular area that he sincerely wishes his child to avoid, that struggle must be handled privately and responsibly, not normalized or displayed openly. Chinuch is not transmitted primarily through instruction; it is absorbed through example. When children see integrity, consistency, and sincerity in their parents’ actions, the message becomes real, credible, and lasting.

4. Even the parents private behavior effects the child:[10]

In Torah thought, the bond between parents and children extends far beyond biology or conscious interaction. Chazal and Chassidus teach that family members are connected not only physically, but spiritually, at the level of the soul. As a result, a parent’s actions influence a child even when nothing is said and nothing is seen. The Rebbe explained that increases in a parent’s Yiras Shamayim and mitzvah observance can subliminally impact the child’s soul, drawing the child toward greater spiritual sensitivity and better choices. In the Rebbe’s words, “Being that all family members are connected to each other not just physically but also spiritually it is therefore understood that the adding of fear of heaven by each family member contributes greater fear of heaven to other family members. This especially applies between parents and their children, that the more the parents add in fear of heaven so too will the results be greater in their child” Conversely, a parent’s spiritual lapses or inner turmoil can likewise affect a child, not through words or example, but through this deep, unseen connection. This understanding places great responsibility on parents—not only regarding what they model publicly, but also how they conduct themselves privately. Torah chinuch operates not only through teaching and role modeling, but through the refinement of the parent’s own inner world. When parents strengthen themselves quietly and authentically, that growth reaches their children in ways that are immeasurable, yet very real.

5. Love –  Emotional connection of parents and children

It is important to note that the perspectives presented in the following article are based on a synthesis of classical Torah sources, personal experience, and insights drawn from leading child‑development and psychological research. The Torah sources provide the spiritual and value‑based foundation for the discussion, while contemporary psychological findings help articulate how these principles manifest in emotional and relational development. In addition, select personal experiences are shared not as prescriptive proofs, but as practical illustrations that bring these ideas into real‑life context. Together, these elements aim to present a balanced, responsible, and thoughtful exploration of the role of expressed love in healthy parent–child relationships, grounded in both timeless Torah wisdom and well‑established understanding of child development.

A. The importance:

One of the most significant—yet often overlooked and rarely discussed—aspects of human development is the emotional connection between parents and children, and more specifically, the ongoing expression of love within that relationship. While this bond is widely acknowledged during infancy and early childhood—when a child’s vulnerability and cuteness naturally invite affection—it is far less emphasized as children grow older. Yet the need for emotional warmth, reassurance, and expressed love does not disappear with age. In many ways, it becomes even more critical. When we speak about expressing love, we are not referring exclusively to holding, hugging, or kissing a baby or toddler. Rather, we are referring to the continued emotional availability and expression of love throughout childhood, adolescence, and even into adulthood. Child psychologists and developmental researchers consistently emphasize that a child’s sense of security, self-worth, and emotional resilience is deeply shaped by perceived parental warmth over time—not just in the earliest years.

Why it’s not discussed: There are several reasons why this topic may be understated or overlooked. First, there is often an assumption that parental love is self-evident and therefore does not require ongoing verbal or physical expression. Parents may feel that their commitment, sacrifice, or provision speaks for itself. Second, in certain societies or family cultures, once a child reaches a particular age, overt expressions of affection—such as hugs, verbal affirmations, or emotional openness—are viewed as unnecessary, overly sentimental, or even inappropriate. The child is perceived as having “outgrown” the need for such expressions. In other cases, parents may simply be replicating the emotional norms they themselves experienced growing up, having received little explicit affection in their own childhoods.

Contemporary psychological research challenges these assumptions. Studies in attachment theory and emotional development demonstrate that children and adolescents who experience consistent expressions of parental love—through words, affection, and emotional presence—are more likely to develop secure attachment styles, stronger emotional regulation, and healthier interpersonal relationships later in life. Longitudinal research has shown that parental warmth is associated with lower rates of anxiety and depression, improved academic and social outcomes, and greater overall life satisfaction well into adulthood. Importantly, these findings hold true across cultures, even when the form of expression differs.

Whatever the reason for the absence or reduction of expressed love, our purpose here is not to place blame or judge parental intentions. Most parents deeply love their children and act in their best interest. Rather, the goal is to clarify why the expression of that love matters so profoundly at every stage of development—and to explore its deeper emotional and spiritual roots. Understanding this lays the groundwork for strengthening parent–child relationships and nurturing emotionally healthy individuals across generations.

B. The Torah Source for Love in the Parental Relationship

Many may ask: Why introduce what appear to be “secular” or psychological ideas into a Torah discussion? Where do we find, in the Torah or in the words of Chazal, that a parent must show affection to a child—to hug, to express love, to be emotionally open, even “soft”? Is this not a modern or foreign concept?

The truth is that not only do we find such ideas deeply rooted in Torah sources, but the concept of expressed love is in fact one of the most fundamental foundations of Torah life. Both in Tanach, Chazal, Midrash, and especially in the teachings of Chassidus and Kabbalah, Hashem’s relationship with the Jewish people is consistently described as the love of a father for a child. To quote a few of the verses: “For Israel is a beloved child to Me[11]”; “Is Ephraim not My precious child? Is he not a child of delight? … My compassion yearns for him.[12]” “Israel was a child and I loved him… I was like one who lifts a child to his cheek; I bent down to feed him.[13]”

This metaphor is not poetic alone; it is instructional. Just as Hashem’s love is not abstract or assumed but revealed, expressed, and felt, so too must parental love be conveyed clearly and tangibly. If the Torah itself chooses the father–son relationship as the primary model through which Divine love is understood, it follows that this human relationship must itself be infused with open and expressed love. A parent who withholds emotional expression while expecting spiritual and emotional receptivity from a child contradicts the very model the Torah establishes. Thus, the expression of love in a parent–child relationship is not a modern concept, nor merely a psychological tool—it is a deep Torah principle rooted in how Hashem Himself relates to His children.

At its core, this discussion touches upon the general concept of love in Torah—and the role love plays in all meaningful relationships. One of the most powerful and essential commandments in the Torah is the mitzvah of Ahavas Hashem—to love G‑d. This is not merely an intellectual acknowledgment or external compliance. Rather, it is an explicit command that we arouse within ourselves a genuine feeling of love and desire to cleave to Hashem. The Alter Rebbe explains in Tanya[14] that this emotional bond is the foundation and animating force of all mitzvos. Torah observance without love is deficient, lacking its inner soul.

Furthermore, the Alter Rebbe teaches that this concept does not remain abstract or limited to the relationship between the Jewish people and Hashem. It manifests within human relationships as well. The Gemara[15] states that one who attaches himself to Torah scholars is considered as though he has attached himself to the Divine Presence. Consequently, there exists a mitzvah to love Torah scholars—not merely to respect or obey them, but to feel an emotional connection of love toward them.[16]

This principle is expressed powerfully in the writings of chassidic leaders as well. In a letter written after the passing of R’ Menachem Mendel of Vitebsk, the Alter Rebbe explains that the enduring bond between a Rebbe and his chassidim exists specifically through love. Love is the conduit through which the relationship remains alive, even beyond physical presence. Without love, the connection weakens; with love, it endures and deepens.[17]

The same applies—perhaps even more so—to the relationship between a father and a child. What creates the bridge that allows chinuch to penetrate? What enables guidance, discipline, and values to be internalized rather than resisted? It is the child’s experience of acceptance and love. The expression of love is not a luxury or an emotional extra; it is the channel through which everything else flows. And this applies at all ages.

A parent may be a brilliant educator, a disciplinarian, or a moral guide, but education without love is deeply flawed. The Alter Rebbe compares Torah observance performed without love to a body without a soul—externally functional, but internally lifeless.[18] Similarly, a parent-child relationship devoid of expressed love resembles a purely mechanical hierarchy: a commander issuing orders to a soldier, followed without emotional connection. Chassidus criticizes such a model as incomplete and unhealthy. Certainly, the sacred and intimate bond between father and child is not meant to be a relationship of command without heart.

We find this ideal expressed not only in philosophical texts but in lived Torah life. In the letters written by the father of the Rebbe, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak Scneerson, to his son the Rebbe, we see profound, open expressions of love and emotional closeness.[19] To quote from some of these letters: “Loving you, desiring you, wishing for your good and your happiness, blessing you from the depths of his heart—your father and father‑in‑law”; “Your father who loves you from the depths of his heart in all days”; “Please, my love, do not shorten your letter…as the one who loves you desire.”; These writings demonstrate clearly that expressing love to one’s child is neither inappropriate nor undesirable within a Torah home. On the contrary, the greatest tzaddikim expressed the deepest affection for their children, viewing love not as a weakness, but as the foundation of true connection and influence.

Thus, far from contradicting Torah values, the ongoing expression of parental love embodies them. Love is not the opposite of discipline or education—it is what gives them life, meaning, and permanence.

C. A Personal Story: When Love Opened the Heart & When One Sentence Changed Everything

Although what I am about to share is deeply personal and ordinarily private, I feel compelled to include it here because of its profound impact—and because it illustrates, in a living and practical way, everything we have discussed until now. I share it not for self-disclosure, but for the benefit of readers who may recognize themselves or their children in this story.

Until about the age of eight and a half, our son was an exceptionally easy and pleasant child in school. He was gentle, kind, attentive in class, stayed out of trouble, and did well academically. Then, quite suddenly, around eight and a half years old, everything changed. From that time until about age 10 and a half he went through a prolonged and painful period of difficulty in school. Over the course of several years, his academic performance declined sharply. He was unfocused in class, struggled to stay on task, and experienced significant social challenges. His rebbi called us frequently, requesting meetings to discuss how to proceed. At one point, the rebbi—an experienced educator with over ten years in the classroom—told us candidly that this was the most challenging child he had ever taught and that he simply could not find a way to break through.

We, too, tried everything we knew. We spoke to our son many times about his behavior, his lack of effort, his struggles with peers, and his responsibilities in school. These conversations, however, amounted largely to lectures—and they led nowhere. We attempted incentives and rewards; they failed. We tried disciplinary measures; any short-lived improvement quickly faded. Nothing seemed to touch him.

Then came what we later referred to as “the phone call that broke the camel’s back.” The rebbi informed us that, in his opinion, there was no remaining option other than to involve a specialist. That evening, my wife and I sat down with our son—then about ten years old—for a very frank and honest conversation.

We began by telling him calmly that we were not angry with him, and that we loved and cared about him deeply. We explained that this conversation was not about punishment, but about concern—because we wanted him to succeed and be happy. With prepared notes, and in as measured a tone as we could manage, we laid out what was happening in school and what we hoped he would begin doing differently. We also explained the trajectory of his future in a Yeshiva system if things don’t get better. Throughout the entire conversation, however, he remained closed, cold, and distant. When we earlier spoke with the rebbi, we agreed on one thing completely: he was as closed as a nut.

As the meeting was coming to an end, I decided to say one final sentence—something I had not planned, but which came from the heart. I said to him:

“My dear son, I want you to know that whether you change or whether you don’t change does not affect how I feel about you. I will love you and accept you no matter what, simply because you are my son. I love you regardless. Your behavior is not a measure of whether you are worthy of my love. Everything we are discussing is only for your benefit—for your future, for your sake. Please take what I said seriously, not for me, but for yourself.”

At that moment, something remarkable happened. For the first time that I can remember, my son broke down crying. Not briefly—but deeply. He cried for quite some time, throughout which we held him close, and then, almost as if a dam had burst, he poured out his entire heart. That single sentence did more than express love; it broke through a barrier he had silently built around himself. It gave him a sense of acceptance he had desperately needed—and with it, the ability to open up.

From that point on, everything changed. Gradually—and then unmistakably—his attitude shifted. His effort increased, his learning improved, and his social interactions transformed. He eventually became one of the strongest students in his class. His entire trajectory changed.

Two weeks later, the rebbi called me and said, “I don’t understand what happened or what you did—but this is nothing short of a miracle. A literal miracle.” I met with him and told him exactly what had taken place. He was stunned. We both learned a lesson that day—one that neither of us has ever forgotten.

We learned how far a simple expression of unconditional love and acceptance can go, and how often it is the missing key—not only in chinuch, but in the heart of a child. That moment taught us that before a child can be guided, corrected, or expected to grow, he must first feel—without condition—that he is loved.

D. Hugs between parents and children:

A hug is one of the most powerful non‑verbal expressions of love available to a parent. Long before a child can understand words or logic, physical closeness communicates safety, acceptance, and reassurance. A hug tells a child, “You are not alone, you are held, and you are loved,” often more effectively than any explanation or instruction. When a child is anxious, ashamed, frightened, or emotionally overwhelmed, a hug can regulate emotions, calm distress, and restore connection in a way that words cannot. For this reason, moments of physical empathy—especially during pain or vulnerability—play a uniquely stabilizing role in emotional development.

At the same time, it is important to state clearly that families are different. Some families are naturally warm and physically affectionate, while others express closeness primarily through words, tone, presence, or acts of care. Judaism does not mandate a single emotional “style,” nor does psychology suggest that every child must receive constant physical affection in order to be healthy. What is broadly recognized—both in Torah thought and in child‑development psychology—is that appropriate physical affection, when welcomed, is a powerful regulator of emotional safety. A hug can calm anxiety, ground distress, restore connection, and communicate acceptance in a way that words alone sometimes cannot.

That said, physical affection should never be forced, especially as children mature. Physical affection must be age‑appropriate and welcome. Teenagers who resist hugs should not be pressured, as unwanted contact can erode trust. However, even in families where hugging is uncommon, there is broad agreement that occasional physical gestures of comfort—particularly in moments of distress, grief, or emotional pain—are extremely important. A respectful hug, a hand on the shoulder, or sitting close during such times often becomes the clearest signal of unconditional love.

Father hugging adult daughter and Mother Hugging adult Son: [20] Kissing and hugging is permitted between parents and their children, even if they are of the opposite gender [and even if the children are now adults[21]]. Thus, a mother may hug and kiss her son [of any age] and a father may hug and kiss his daughter [of any age]. [See Q&A regarding if she is married!] Kissing and hugging is likewise permitted between grandparents and their grandchildren of the opposite gender.[22]

Q&A May a parent/grandparent hug a married daughter/granddaughter? Some Poskim[23] rule it is permitted for a father or grandfather to hug and kiss his daughter/granddaughter even if she is married. Other Poskim[24], however, rule it is forbidden for them to kiss or hug a married daughter/granddaughter. Practically, it is permitted to do so[25], although one who desires to be stringent upon himself is blessed.[26]   Relatives showing affection in public:[27] It is permitted for a father/mother/grandfather/grandmother to engage in non-affectionate touch with their daughter/son/granddaughter/grandson even in public. [It is possible to learn in the Poskim that it is however forbidden for them to engage in affectionate touch in public, such as hugging and kissing.[28] On the other hand, one can argue that affectionate touch between such close relatives does not lead others to any immoral thoughts.[29] Practically, since in most situations it is not obvious to others that the two are father/daughter etc one is to be stringent, and so rule some Rabbanim of today.[30] However for a parent/grandparent to hug their young child in public is certainly permitted.[31]]

When and How Physical Affection Is Appropriate (by Age)

Age / Stage	Is Physical Affection Helpful?	What’s Appropriate	What to Avoid
Infancy & Early Childhood	Essential	Holding, cuddling, hugging, gentle touch, sitting close	Emotional distance
Early School Age	Very important	Hugs, arm around shoulder, affectionate gestures	Using affection as reward/punishment
Pre‑Teen (9–12)	Still important	Natural, respectful hugs; comfort during distress	Embarrassing or forced affection
Teenagers	Situational	Brief hugs if welcomed; comforting touch in moments of pain	Forcing touch; public displays against their will
Late Teens / Early 20s	Optional but meaningful	Respectful hugs at greetings or emotional moments	Assuming affection is unwanted without checking
After Marriage	Symbolic and relational	Warm greetings, blessings, expressions of pride	Intrusiveness or boundary crossing
All Ages (During Crisis)	Strongly recommended	Age‑appropriate, consent‑based physical comfort	Emotional coldness in distress

E. How to express love – Expressing Love Across Every Stage of a Child’s Life

Love must be expressed in ways a child can feel and recognize, and the form of that expression naturally evolves as the child grows. While the needs of a young child differ from those of a teenager or an adult, the underlying message remains the same at every stage: You are loved, wanted, and accepted. Parents sometimes assume that love no longer needs to be verbalized once children mature, yet experience teaches that emotional connection is lifelong. When love is expressed consistently and appropriately, it becomes the secure foundation upon which guidance, discipline, independence, and spiritual growth can rest.

Practical Ways to Express Love—According to Age

Young Children (infancy through early childhood)

• Physical affection: hugs, holding hands, sitting close
• Warm tone of voice and frequent positive words
• Expressing pride and joy openly
• Being emotionally present and attentive

Elementary and Middle‑School Age

• Verbal affirmation: “I’m proud of you,” “I love you,” “I enjoy being with you”
• Listening carefully without immediate correction
• Showing interest in their thoughts, fears, and experiences
• Gentle physical gestures that feel natural and appropriate

Teenage Years

• Respecting their developing independence while remaining emotionally available
• Expressing unconditional love separate from performance or behavior
• Avoiding sarcasm or constant criticism
• Communicating trust and confidence in who they are becoming

Young Adults (late teens and twenties)

• Clearly stating that love and connection are not dependent on agreement or conformity
• Offering support without control
• Expressing appreciation for who they are as individuals
• Maintaining warmth and interest without intrusion

After Marriage

• Continuing to express love without competition or judgment
• Respecting boundaries while staying emotionally present
• Speaking words of pride and blessing
• Letting children know they remain cherished and connected

At no stage does love become unnecessary—and at no stage should it be assumed rather than expressed. When children of any age are secure in their parents’ love, the relationship becomes a source of strength, trust, and lasting influence.

Age / Stage	Ways to Express Love	Notes & Emphasis
Infancy & Early Childhood	Hugs, holding, gentle touch, smiles, warm tone of voice, verbal affection	Love must be physical and constant; this builds basic emotional security
Early School Age	Verbal praise, encouragement, interest in daily experiences, affectionate gestures	Children need to hear that they are loved and valued
Pre‑Teen & Middle School	Listening without judgment, reassurance, appropriate physical closeness, calm presence	Love should be felt as acceptance, not conditional on performance
Teenage Years	Verbal affirmation, respect for growing independence, trust, emotional availability	Separate love from behavior; avoid sarcasm and constant criticism
Late Teens / Early 20s	Clear statements of unconditional love, support without control, expressing pride	Love must not be confused with agreement or interference
After Marriage	Words of blessing, continued warmth, respect for boundaries, appreciation	Let children know marriage does not end the parent‑child bond
All Stages	Honest words of love, sincerity, consistency, emotional presence	Love should be expressed, not assumed

F. Age‑Appropriate Love Statements Parents Can Say

Early Childhood (Approx. ages 2–6)

Children at this age need safety, delight, and presence.

1. “I love you so much, and I’m so happy you’re my child.”
2. “You make our home happier just by being here.”
3. “I’m right here with you—you’re safe.”
4. “There’s nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you.”

Elementary Age (Approx. ages 7–10)

Children begin forming self‑worth and sensitivity to approval.

1. “I love who you are, not just what you do.”
2. “I enjoy spending time with you.”
3. “I’m proud of the effort you’re making.”
4. “Even when things are hard, I’m on your side.”

Pre‑Teen (Approx. ages 11–13)

Children are vulnerable, self‑aware, and emotionally guarded.

1. “You don’t have to be perfect for me to love you.”
2. “I’m interested in what you think and how you feel.”
3. “You matter to me more than grades or achievements.”
4. “I love you—even when we don’t agree.”

Teenagers (Approx. ages 14–18)

Teens need respect, acceptance, and emotional safety without control.

1. “My love for you doesn’t depend on your choices or performance.”
2. “You’re allowed to make mistakes and still be deeply loved.”
3. “I trust you, and I’m here if you need me.”
4. “I see the good in you, even when you can’t see it yourself.”

Late Teens / Early Adulthood (Approx. ages 18–25)

Young adults need unconditional connection without pressure.

1. “You don’t need to earn your place in my heart—it’s already yours.”
2. “I respect the person you’re becoming.”
3. “My love for you doesn’t end because you’re independent.”
4. “You can always come to me—no matter what.”

After Marriage / Adulthood

Adult children still need belonging, blessing, and pride.

1. “I’m grateful to have you as my child.”
2. “I’m proud of the life you’re building.”
3. “My love for you didn’t change when you got married—it grew.”
4. “You’ll always have a home in my heart and in this family.”

A Final Guiding Note

These statements are most powerful when said calmly, sincerely, and repeatedly over time, not only during conflict or crisis. Even one sentence—said at the right moment—can stay with a child for years.

G. The Foundation of Love in the Earliest Years

The expression of love in a child’s earliest years is not only natural but essential, both spiritually and psychologically. The Maggid of Mezritch[32] taught that the intense love parents instinctively feel for their young children is rooted in a deep spiritual reality: a child’s conception is drawn forth from a level of ta’anug—pleasure—that is bound with the Divine will itself, the very power that enables creation and procreation. Because this inner pleasure remains more revealed in the early years of a child’s life, it naturally generates a stronger emotional closeness between parent and child. This spiritual bond finds a clear parallel in child psychology. Developmental research, particularly attachment theory, emphasizes that consistent expressions of love, warmth, and nurturing in infancy and early childhood form the foundation of a child’s sense of safety, trust, and self‑worth. When young children experience emotional closeness—through affection, responsiveness, and presence—they develop secure attachment, which supports healthy emotional regulation, confidence, and relationships later in life. Conversely, when such expressions are absent or inconsistent, even at very young ages, children may internalize insecurity, anxiety, or emotional withdrawal, impairing their ability to trust and connect. Thus, both Torah wisdom and psychological understanding converge on the same truth: the early years are a unique window in which expressed love is not merely beneficial, but formative, shaping the child’s inner world for years to come.

H. Sending kids to out of town schools and Yeshiva’s & Maintaining the Parent–Child Bond When Children Learn Away From Home

* See also Chapter 6 Halacha ?? where we discuss the pros and cons of sending a child away from home!

The decision to send one’s child away to learn out of town—whether to a distant yeshiva, seminary, high school, or educational institution—is one of the most difficult challenges parents face in the realm of chinuch. This is especially true for shluchim and families living in smaller communities, where such decisions are often unavoidable. While these environments may provide the necessary educational or spiritual framework, they introduce a significant emotional risk to the parent–child relationship, particularly during the adolescent years.

Children in adolescence, already navigating powerful physical, emotional, and hormonal changes, naturally begin to experience a sense of independence and self‑definition. When this developmental stage is coupled with physical distance from home, a child may begin to feel detached from his or her parents—not out of rebellion, but out of immaturity. Parents can unintentionally shift, in the child’s mind, from being emotionally central figures to distant providers whose primary roles are tuition payments, financial support, and logistical assistance. At this stage, the child often lacks the emotional maturity to recognize or value the depth and importance of a loving parent–child relationship. The absence of daily contact can quietly weaken the bond if it is not intentionally preserved.

For this reason, it becomes incumbent upon parents to take an active and ongoing role in maintaining the emotional connection with their child. This requires more than periodic check‑ins or practical conversations; it demands consistency, warmth, emotional availability, and genuine interest in the child’s inner world. Without such efforts, children learning away from home may begin to carry secret inner struggles—doubts, loneliness, shame, or confusion—without a strong emotional anchor. Often, these struggles are not born of misbehavior or ideology, but of a subtle and growing sense of being emotionally alone in the world. Sustaining a loving, present relationship during these formative years can be the single most powerful protective factor in a child’s emotional and spiritual wellbeing.

6. Spending One‑on‑One Quality Time With Your Child

In direct continuation of the discussion on the centrality of love and emotional bonding between parent and child, the next most consequential subject to address is the primary instrument through which that bond is built and sustained: spending quality time with one’s child. Spending quality one‑on‑one time with a child is one of the most powerful—and most neglected—tools in chinuch. This is not about outings or entertainment, but about creating intentional space where a child feels emotionally safe to open up and be heard. A quiet walk, a short hike, or sitting together at a café can become sacred moments when a child can talk about life, their Yiddishkeit, their dreams, their fears, and their struggles. These moments communicate a simple but life‑changing message: You matter, and I want to know you.

A powerful statement often attributed to President Theodore Roosevelt captures a profound truth: “People do not care how much you know until they know how much you care.” Few ideas are as relevant—or as urgent—when it comes to parenting. Parents naturally want their children to see them as Pious, Chassidish, Frum, knowledgeable, successful, intelligent, scholarly, respected, or popular. While these qualities may impress, they pale in comparison to a far deeper and more basic need every child carries: the need to know that they truly matter to their parent. A child is not primarily looking for a parent who has all the answers. They are looking for a parent who is emotionally present—someone who notices them, listens to them, and takes an interest in their inner world. When a child feels that they matter, that their thoughts, feelings, struggles, and dreams are important, a foundation of security and connection is formed. Without that foundation, even the most brilliant education or carefully delivered guidance often fails to penetrate the heart. Knowledge without care feels cold; authority without relationship feels distant. But care precedes influence.

This is especially true in chinuch. A child will only absorb values, beliefs, and direction from someone they feel connected to. When a child knows that a parent genuinely cares—cares enough to listen without judgment, to make time, to be emotionally available—they become open. Trust is born, walls come down, and the parent gains access to the child’s inner world. From that place, guidance becomes possible, values become meaningful, and love grows on both sides. In the end, what a child remembers most is not how impressive their parent was, but how deeply they were seen, valued, and loved.

Indeed, many of us did not grow up this way. For some of us, we may not remember a time when our parents—certainly not both of them together—took us out alone to a restaurant, for a walk, or to a private setting simply to speak with us one‑on‑one and show genuine interest in our lives. Of course, our parents loved us deeply and did their very best to provide for us materially, emotionally, and spiritually. Yet in many homes, it was simply assumed that everything was fine unless a child explicitly came forward, or unless something visibly went wrong—such as struggles in school, clear emotional distress, or another noticeable behavior.

In most cases, these conversations were not initiated proactively by the parents. And this is not said, chas veshalom, as blame. Our parents were products of their time, their upbringing, and their circumstances, and many gave far more than they themselves ever received. Still, there is no denying that something precious was often lost—the unrealized potential of a deeper relationship between parent and child, and the life‑altering impact that such a relationship could have had if it had been built intentionally. A connection formed through regular, loving, one‑on‑one time could have opened doors to understanding, trust, guidance, and growth that never fully came to be.

For this very reason, regardless of whether one personally grew up with this model or not, it is absolutely imperative for parents today to create that space for their children. Purposeful, consistent quality time is not a luxury—it is a necessity. It builds what may not have existed before and ensures that our children carry something stronger, healthier, and more nurturing into their own lives and relationships.

The purpose of the quality time:

This quality time referred to above must first be clearly defined by what it is not. It is not about entertainment or enjoyable activities that can just as easily be experienced through playing a ball game, doing a shared activity, or going to Shul together. While those moments are certainly positive and meaningful in their own way, they do not, on their own, create the heart‑to‑heart, emotionally open connection we are referring to here. True quality time of this nature is not centered on doing something together, but on being with one another in a space that invites openness, vulnerability, and genuine conversation. Without that emotional presence and intentional dialogue, even the most pleasant shared activities can pass by without building the deep inner connection that allows a child to feel truly seen, heard, and understood. Thus, the first purpose of this time is to truly know your child. Many parents live under the same roof as their children yet do not know their inner world—how they feel, what they think about when they are alone, or what weighs on them. Regular one‑on‑one conversations allow parents to understand their child as an individual, not just as “a good kid,” “a struggling kid,” or “that quiet one.” This understanding prevents problems from festering unnoticed and allows guidance to be tailored to this child, not an abstract idea of who they should be. The second purpose is to build trust and emotional connection. When a child experiences a parent as emotionally present, non‑judgmental, and curious rather than corrective, they begin to trust the parent with their inner world. That trust is what allows a child to reach out when they are confused, tempted, hurt, or afraid. Over time, these conversations naturally create love—love from the parent who feels deeply connected to their child, and love from the child who feels seen, valued, and understood.

How often and where

Parents should make a conscious habit of spending quality one‑on‑one time with each of their children. While even time with one parent is invaluable, there is something especially powerful when both parents are present together, whenever schedules and family size allow. Life is busy, and not every family can manage frequent individual time with every child. Even if a parent is only able to focus on one child per week—and therefore rotates so that each child receives dedicated attention once every few months—that moment leaves a lasting imprint. That single, focused encounter can stay with a child forever and have enduring effects on their chinuch, emotional security, and understanding of their parents as real, caring human beings. Children remember far more than we realize. A walk, a quiet conversation, or sitting together over a meal—when a parent’s attention is undivided—communicates to the child that they matter. Those moments tell a child, “You are important enough for us to make time for you.” Even infrequent one‑on‑one time, when done intentionally and with warmth, can become an emotional anchor that the child carries into adulthood. It builds connection, trust, and a sense of being seen that no group activity or family routine can replace. In our own home, we try to live by this value. Our custom is to choose one child each week and spend quality time with them—whether through a walk, a hike, a visit to a coffee shop, or a meal together at a local restaurant. In addition, we always make it a point on a child’s birthday to take them out one‑on‑one to a special restaurant, creating a dedicated space just for connection, conversation, and relationship. These moments are not about entertainment, but about presence. Over time, they build a deep bond, strengthen trust, and nurture a lasting love between parent and child that becomes the foundation for meaningful chinuch.

Conversation‑Opening Questions for One‑on‑One Time

Imagination, Feelings & Inner World

1. Describe what a great day looks like for you—what makes it special?
2. What do you like daydreaming about?
3. What does it feel like when I hug you?
4. If you drew everything that came into your head, what would you be drawing right now?
5. What is something about you that you think I might not know?
6. What bugs you the most?
7. What makes you feel energized?

Joy, Gratitude & Self‑Worth

1. What makes you happy?
2. Did you smile or laugh extra today? What did you laugh about?
3. What makes you feel loved?
4. What are three really small victories you’re proud of recently?
5. What’s a memory that makes you happy?
6. What do you look forward to when you wake up?

Creativity, Dreams & Aspirations

1. If you opened a store, what would you sell?
2. Do you have any inventions in your brain?
3. If you could learn any language, what would it be?
4. If you wrote a book, what would it be about?
5. If you were famous, what would you be famous for?
6. If you had no limits, what skill would you love to have?
7. What’s a hobby you’d love to learn but haven’t yet?

 

Values & Meaning

1. What makes someone smart?
2. How do you show people you care?
3. What do you enjoy giving to people?
4. What do you think are the most important things for a great life?
5. How would you explain the word “love” without using the word?
6. What have you learned that you think will help you most as an adult?
7. How would you change the world if you could?

 

School & Academics

1. What does a typical day at school feel like for you emotionally?
2. Which class do you feel best in, and which class is hardest for you? Why?
3. Do you feel successful at school—or do you feel like you’re always trying to catch up?

4. Is there anything in school that makes you feel stressed, anxious, or overwhelmed?
5. Do you feel understood by your teachers? Is there anyone at school who really “gets” you?
6. When you don’t do well on a test or assignment, what goes through your mind?
   (Reveals the child’s inner narrative: resilience vs. self‑criticism.)

1. Do you feel pressure in school—from teachers, peers, or from yourself? Where does it come from most?
2. Is there something about school that you wish worked differently for you?
3. Do you ever feel bored, unseen, or unchallenged in school? Or too challenged?
4. What would you want us to understand better about what school is like for you?

Friends & Relationships

1. Who are your closest friends right now?
2. What do you enjoy doing with them?
3. Is there something you really value about your friendships?
4. Are there people you don’t get along with—or feel hurt by?
5. What usually makes you like people? What makes you pull away from them?
6. Have you ever felt rejected or lonely with friends?
7. What have your friends been up to?
8. Which of your friends do you think I would like most—and why?
9. What makes our family special or unique?

The Home & Sense of Safety

1. Is there anything in our home that you would like to change or improve?
2. Are there places in the house where you feel especially comfortable or uncomfortable?
3. Do you feel peaceful at home? What helps you feel that way—and what makes it harder?
4. Is there anything about our home environment that stresses you out?
5. Do you feel you have enough personal space and privacy?
6. If you made the rules at home, what would change?

Siblings & Family Dynamics

1. Which siblings do you feel closest to? What makes that relationship special?
2. Are there any siblings you struggle with? What makes that difficult?
3. Do you ever feel compared to your siblings? How does that feel for you?
4. Do you feel you are treated fairly in the family?
5. Is there anything you wish we understood better about how you experience family life?

Parents & Emotional Safety (Very Important)

1. Is there anything you would like to tell us as your parents that you feel we may not know?
2. Is there something we do—even unintentionally—that hurts you or bothers you?
3. Do you feel comfortable coming to us when something is hard? If not, why?
4. What could we do better to make you feel safer talking to us?
5. Do you like receiving hugs from us? When does it feel good—and when does it not?

(You can say explicitly: “This is a safe space. We will not judge or get angry. We want to hear you and understand you.”)

Religion, Yiddishkeit & Inner Struggles

1. What is your favorite mitzvah, and why?
2. Do you enjoy davening? What does it feel like for you?
3. How strong do you feel your relationship with Hashem is right now?
4. How often do you think about Him during the day?
5. What are your biggest struggles in Yiddishkeit?
6. Are there parts of religious life that feel heavy, confusing, or pressured?

Reflection, Challenges & Growth (for older kids/teens)

1. What’s the hardest thing you’re dealing with right now?
2. What are you most afraid of?
3. Have you ever felt like you needed help but didn’t ask? What made it hard?
4. What’s something you failed at—and what did you learn?
5. What do you do when you can’t sleep at night?
6. If you could give your younger self advice, what would it be?

Pain, Guilt & Healing (Use With Great Sensitivity)

1. Is there anything painful or traumatic you’re carrying that we don’t know about?
2. Is there any way we can help lessen that burden for you?
3. Do you feel guilt or shame about anything that you wish you could talk through?
4. Is there something you need forgiveness for—or reassurance about?
5. What do you need most from us right now?

How to Use These Questions

These questions are not an interrogation. They are invitations. You may only ask one or two at a time, allow silence, and accept answers without correcting or teaching. The goal is not to fix—but to connect, to let your child feel seen, heard, and safe. When that happens, healing, trust, and true chinuch naturally follow.

• Don’t rush. One good question is better than ten forced ones.
• Listen more than you speak—this is about their inner world.
• Never correct, lecture, or immediately “fix.” Trust is the goal.
• Let silence happen; it often leads to depth.
• Revisit these meetings consistently—monthly or bi‑monthly builds security.

A Confession From the Son of a Shaliach

For seven years, I worked closely with teenagers who had gone off the derech. Again and again, beneath the anger, rebellion, and destructive behavior, there was a story—often unspoken—of deep loneliness and emotional abandonment. One confession, in particular, has never left me. It was shared by the son of a well‑known shaliach, a man beloved by his community for his warmth, generosity, and tireless devotion to others. To the outside world, this father was endlessly giving, always available, and passionately invested in every soul who crossed his path. But to his own child, he was a stranger.

The young man described growing up in a home that was constantly full of people, noise, and activity—yet completely devoid of emotional safety. His parents’ time, affection, and warmth were reserved for congregants, students, and visitors. Inside the home, there was no space for calm conversation, no moments of being taken aside and asked, “How are you really doing?” There were no one‑on‑one walks, no quiet meals, no private time where a child felt seen, valued, or emotionally protected. From a very young age, he learned that unless something went visibly wrong, no one would notice him. He was surrounded by people—but utterly alone.

As the years passed, that emptiness turned into confusion, pain, and destructive choices. Looking back, it is impossible not to ask how different this child’s life could have been if even one thing had changed: if a parent had regularly sat down with him, or taken him for a walk, or created space just to talk—without teaching, correcting, or performing. If someone had shown genuine curiosity about his inner world, his fears, his questions, and his struggles. That kind of quality time builds trust. It gives a child language for their pain and a safe address to bring it to. Without it, children look elsewhere for relief, belonging, or escape—and often pay a devastating price.

This story is not about blame, nor is it about a specific role, title, or mission. It is about a universal truth: children do not drift off suddenly; they drift when they feel unseen. Purposeful, emotional one‑on‑one time does not guarantee perfection, but its absence can cost a child their sense of worth, safety, and direction. What we are discussing—quiet presence, intentional listening, and making space for the heart—has the power to change lives. Sometimes, it would have changed everything.

🕰️ Practical Direction — What to Do Now

If you are a parent reading this and realize that you have never truly given your child the kind of space we are discussing—or if it has been a long time—now is the time to act. Do not wait until things feel urgent. Do not tell yourself “one day” or “when life slows down.” Set a schedule today, tonight. This is not meant to happen once a year, or once in a lifetime, but periodically and consistently.

The benefit your child will gain from this kind of dedicated, emotionally present time is immeasurable. And just as importantly, the benefit you yourself will gain is equally immense—a deeper bond, greater understanding, and a relationship built on trust rather than assumption. There are few investments that yield returns this profound. In today’s world, this may be one of the most critical—if not the most critical—components of chinuch. What you carve out now can shape your child’s inner world for a lifetime.

7. Sippurei Tzadikim: Telling Children Stories of Tzaddikim and Miracles[33]

A. The Educational Value

One of the most powerful ways to educate a child is through stories. Long before a child can grasp deep ideas or abstract concepts, his heart is already open, and his soul is listening. Stories of tzaddikim, especially stories filled with faith and miracles, speak directly to a child’s neshama and leave a lasting impression.

When a child hears about great tzaddikim—about their devotion to Hashem, their trust, and the open miracles that surrounded them—this plants emunah deeply within him. There is almost no stronger way to connect a child to Hashem than through such stories. They teach the child, in a simple and loving way, that Hashem is real, involved, and close.

Stories about the Baal Shem Tov and his students have played this role for generations. Through these stories, children learn that the world is guided not only by nature, but by Divine providence. They hear how simple Jews were cherished, how sincere prayer was powerful, and how Hashem responds to trust and humility. Long before the child understands theology, he absorbs faith as something natural and alive.

Some people argue that children should not hear stories that sound miraculous or supernatural. They feel that such stories are too fantastic, almost like fairy tales, and that children should first be taught only what seems logical and rational. According to this approach, miracle stories should be saved for later years, once a child’s mind has matured.

However, the Chassidic approach strongly disagrees with this view.

Chassidus teaches that emunah comes before understanding. A child should first learn to believe, to trust, and to accept the reality of Hashem and His power. Only afterward does the intellect deepen and explain what the heart already knows. Even mitzvot and ideas that later make sense intellectually must first be rooted in simple faith and acceptance.

This approach is not theoretical; it has been lived and practiced. There is a well‑known story told by the Rebbe Rayatz about a school teacher in the days of the Alter Rebbe who was a secret Maskil named Shimon Hakofer who believed that children should not be taught Rashi or Midrashim that contain miraculous or wondrous elements. When he expressed this to the Alter Rebbe in Yechidus, it was immediately recognized that he was a secret Maskil.

The same idea appears clearly in Chabad teachings about education. Children must be taught stories that go beyond logic—stories of miracles, of tzaddikim who changed reality through faith. These stories do not confuse the child’s thinking; they build the child’s soul. They train the child to see the world as a place where Hashem is active and present, not distant or abstract. When children grow up surrounded by stories of tzaddikim and miracles, these stories become part of who they are. In later years, when challenges arise and questions grow stronger, they draw from these early impressions. The faith absorbed in childhood does not disappear—it becomes an inner strength.

In this sense, miracle stories are not an escape from reality. They present a deeper reality, one in which Hashem guides the world openly and lovingly. Teaching these stories to children is not only appropriate; it is essential. It shapes their emunah, connects them to generations of tzaddikim, and anchors their relationship with Hashem from the very beginning of life.

B. The Bonding that ever lasts

Beyond education, telling children stories of tzaddikim and miracles is also a powerful way for a parent to bond with a child. When a father or mother sits with a child before bedtime, on a Friday night, or at any quiet moment, and gently tells a story of tzaddikim and open miracles, something deep is created. Not only does this place emunah in Hashem and trust in tzaddikim firmly within the child’s heart, but it also builds a loving connection between parent and child. Many children grow up remembering these moments with warmth — how their parent held them close and spoke softly about faith and miracles. These memories remain with them into old age, strengthening both their relationship with Hashem and their connection to their parents.

From a clinical perspective, shared storytelling between parent and child is known to strengthen emotional attachment and a child’s sense of safety. When a parent regularly sets aside calm, personal time—such as before bedtime or on Friday night—to speak with a child, hold them, and tell meaningful stories, the child associates learning, faith, and warmth with closeness and love. Research shows that these moments create secure bonding and lasting emotional memories, which often remain a source of comfort and identity well into adulthood. In this way, stories of tzaddikim and miracles nurture not only emunah, but also a deep sense of being loved and protected.

Free Translation of the writings of the Rebbe

The Previous Rebbe related that when his children were small, he hired a teacher for them.
This teacher held the view that it is not necessary to tell children matters in Judaism that are frightening or wondrous—miracles that are not understood according to intellect.
Such matters, he believed, are intended for adults who already understand matters through intellect, and only afterward is it possible to add matters of miracles.

But for children, such things confuse logic and intellect.

Therefore, according to this teacher’s view, one should speak only about those matters of Judaism that are logical according to intellect.

When this approach of the teacher became known to the Rebbe Rashab of blessed memory, he dismissed him immediately.

One must begin specifically with faith and acceptance of the yoke, and not with intellect.
Even those matters that are understandable according to intellect must be fulfilled out of acceptance of the yoke.

And so too in the matter of education, one must tell children matters of miracles that are above intellect.
This plants faith within them.

And the claims that this is not according to proper order, and that one should not begin with matters that bewilder the intellect, and similar arguments—these originate from the Evil Inclination, the old and foolish king.

(Likkutei Sichos, Vol. 19, p. 93)

This matter is understood simply by every Jewish child, since he is told the well‑known story of the Baal Shem Tov, and in this way he is told additional stories from the Torah about miracles and Divine Providence. Specifically, such stories must be told to children, and not—as others do—so‑called “grandmother stories,” but rather stories taken from the Written Torah and the Oral Torah, or true stories about tzaddikim.

In this manner one must educate a Jewish child regarding the verse, “To the One who alone performs great wonders.” The education of a Jewish child must be such that he knows that the Holy One, blessed be He, performs great wonders for him, and that He arranges the causes in the world in order to provide for all his needs—food, drink, and the like.

And as is well known, the story told by the Previous Rebbe, that one must tell stories of miracles even to the very smallest children, not according to the opinion of mistaken educators who claim that small children become confused if they are told miracle stories.

For example, when one tells a child that when Moshe Rabbeinu struck the rock, water came forth, there are educators who believe that this story confuses the child, since the child knows that the way of the world is that water flows from wells, rivers, and streams, but not from rocks. And if the Holy One, blessed be He, wanted to provide water to the Jews, He should have created a spring or a river, but not brought water out of a rock.

Regarding this, the Previous Rebbe says that this is a complete mistake in the educational approach toward a Jewish child. On the contrary, one must explicitly tell children stories of miracles, and that even in our time the Holy One, blessed be He, performs great wonders for this child. This is a great foundation in his education.

And the truth is that the need to tell a Jewish child about the fact that the Holy One, blessed be He, performs great wonders for him is not only because this is the correct educational approach, but because this is the truth. And as our Sages say, every single person is obligated to say: “The world was created for me.” This includes a small Jewish child as well.

Therefore, it is indeed true that the Holy One, blessed be He, arranges events for the good, and performs great wonders and changes in the world, for this Jewish child. Especially since, with regard to a child, this is “breath in which there is no sin,” which has an effect on the world.

As in the example brought above regarding the vehicle and the beverage seller who provide drink for a Jewish child.

And as stated, telling this to a Jewish child is a great foundation in his education. Such education brings about that his outlook on the world in general, and on his own place within the world in particular, will be completely different.

 

(Sichot Kodesh, 5741 / 1980–81, Vol. 1)

[1] Hayom Yom 22^nd Teves [see Hayom Yom Hamevuar!]; Igros Kodesh Rayatz 2:385; 3:462; 4:186; Igros Kodesh Rashab 2:460; Likkutei Sichos 1:9

[2] Igros Kodesh Rayatz 4:186

[3] Hayom Yom 22^nd Teves; Igros Kodesh Rayatz 2:385; 4:186; However, see Igros Kodesh Rayatz 3:462 that it should be done for one hour a day

[4] Hayom Yom ibid; See however Igros Kodesh Rayatz 2:385 where it says every 2-3 days

[5] Hayom Yom 22^nd Teves; Igros Kodesh Rayatz 2:385; 4:186; However, see Igros Kodesh Rayatz 3:462 that the parent is to speak with his children for one hour a day

[6] Igros Kodesh Rayatz 4:186

[7] See Chayeh Adam 24:19; M”B 47:10; 122:8; Ateres Zekeinim O.C. 47; Tana Dvei Eliyahu p. 18; Chareidim 67 and 335; Igros Kodesh Rayatz 4:186; Nitei Gavriel 17:16

[8] See M”A 263:11; Mateh Moshe 417; Rabbeinu Bechayeh Parshas Yisro; Shiyurei Kneses Hagedola 263:8; Machatzis Hashekel 263; M”B 263:2; Nitei Gavriel 17:17

[9] See Hisvadyus 5754 3:1533; Morah Ledur Navich p. 176; Shaareiy Chinuch p. 125-134

[10] See Igros Kodesh 23:376; Likkutei Sichos Vol. 3 Parshas Mikeitz for a similar idea regarding a Jews effect on the world.

[11] Yirmiyahu 31:19–20

[12] Yirmiyahu 31:19–20

[13] Hoshea 11:1–4

[14] Tanya Chapter 38

[15] Kesubos 111b; See Tanya chapter 2

[16] Chinuch Mitzvah 434 “One transgresses this command if he does not set love for them in his heart.”

[17] See Tanya Igeres Hakodesh 27; Hayom Yom 26^th Shevat; Igros Kodesh Admur Rayatz letter 1805 p. 353

[18] Tanya ibid

[19] See Michtavei Chasuna of Rebbe’s fathr to the Rebbe

[20] Michaber ibid; Kiddushin 80b; Kitzur SHU”A 159:10

[21] Perisha 21:7; Beis Shmuel 21:15; Beir Heiytiv 21:15; Taharas Yisrael 21:17; Chochmas Adam 125:6

If the daughter/granddaughter/mother/grandmother is a Niddah: The above allowance applies even if the relation is a Niddah. [Betzeil Hachochmah 3:12]

[22] Chelkas Mechokek 21:10 based on Kiddushin 81b; Beis Shmuel 21:14 [see there for a long discussion on this topic]; Pischeiy Teshuvah 21:5; Igros Moshe ibid

[23] Beis Shmuel 21:14 that when both are clothed there is no prohibition to sleep together even if she is an adult and is married; Pnei Moshe 21:5; Beir Heiytiv 21:14; Aruch Hashulchan 21:10; Taharas Yisrael 21:17; Nidchei Yisrael 24; Divrei Yatziv Even Haezer 36; Chochmas Adam 125:6 concludes with a Tzaruch Iyun; Betzeil Hachochmah 3:12

[24] Mishneh Lamelech on Rambam 21:6-7; Nesivos Shabbos 13a; Meiri Kiddushin 81b; See Betzeil Hachochmah ibid

[25] Betzeil Hachochmah 3:12 as rule majority of Poskim ibid

[26] Betzeil Hachochmah ibid; Beir Moshe 4:145; Igros Moshe Even Haezer 1:60 and 4:63; See also Od Yosef Chaiy Shoftim 21 that a Baal Nefesh is to be stringent to himself. [does not specifically stipulate regarding daughter who is married].

[27] See Beis Shmuel 21:12; Taz 21:1 that by the above relatives doing acts of non-affection acts in public [such as checking each other’s hair] does not arouse immoral thoughts being that everyone understands that they do not share an incestuous relationship. 

[28] As the above Poskim only permitted these relatives to check lice in public, which is not an affectionate touch, while by an affectionate touch, such as hugging and kissing, certainly it can arouse immoral thoughts in the onlooker.

[29] So is implied from the ruling of the Taz and Beis Shmuel ibid that there is no Zichron Tashmish by such relatives

[30] So rules Hagaon HaRav Yaakov Yosef Zal, stating that those fathers who hug their older daughters in public are Amei Haretz and are causing others to stumble.

[31] Pashut, as people do not view this erotically.

[32] Maggid Devarav LeYaakov Torah 233

[33] See Shaareiy Chinuch p. 54; Likkutei Sichos 19:93; Hisvadyos 5749 2:291; Sichos Kodesh 5741 1:246

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