Have you heard of PTG?
This week we are starting to read Sefer Shemot. Whereas Sefer Bereishit tells the story of a family, Shemot tells the story of how this family becomes a nation, the Jewish people.
In our Torah portion it is written: “But as much as they would afflict them, so did they multiply and so did they gain strength.” In other words, the more the Egyptians abused us and subjected us to hard labor with the goal of breaking our spirit, the more we grew and gained strength. By clinging to our identity and to one another, we were not only able to survive— but to flourish.
There is a psychological term that I first heard from Rav Aharon Darmon, which I believe is especially relevant for us today: PTG, Post-Traumatic Growth — a positive change that occurs as a result of trauma. PTG doesn’t just mean resilience, the ability to return to our daily routines and to normal functioning. It means emotional growth that takes place as a result of the trauma itself. PTG is a treatment goal that aims to help patients achieve higher levels of personal growth that they could not have achieved without suffering the trauma.
Sefer Shemot shows us that PTG — our ability to grow from trauma — has been part of our coping mechanism for thousands of years. For example, after the Holocaust the Jewish people did not sink into despair and paralysis, but continued to grow and to advance in all areas — and even to establish a state of their own in their ancestral homeland.
Try to absorb the words of this powerful verse, “The more they afflicted them, the more they multiplied and gained strength,” and think how we can apply this idea to the challenges we face, both in our personal lives and on the national level.
May we increase our strength by internalizing and connecting to this coping mechanism that has served our people from the very beginning of our journey.
It’s Not Just What You Do but How You Do It
Ever since I read this idea, written by Moshe Shimon Ofen, I noticed that it changed my behavior. This week's Torah portion tells of the Hebrew midwives, named Shifrah and Puah. Despite Pharaoh's wicked command to kill the Jewish newborns, they refused to obey him.
The commentator Rashi draws attention to their special names: Shifrah comes from the word leshaper, to improve. She improved the appearance of the newborn. Puah is an onomatopoeia: she coos and speaks to the newborn, as women who soothe a crying baby.
They were not just midwives doing their job. They did much more: hugging, caring, smiling, and playing "peekaboo" with the baby. In the midst of enslavement, a warm and pleasant midwife brought joy to the mother and her baby. They were great women not only by virtue of their refusal to carry out Pharaoh's murderous command, but also because they added a smile and a kind word, amidst the hellish Egyptian exile.
The message is clear: It’s not just what we do, but how we do it, not only under pressure, but also in our day-to-day lives. Shifrah and Puah are a reminder to all of us, to try and add to our daily actions – at home, at work, on the road, and everywhere – a smile and a pleasant manner.
Our Expanded Safe Space
I have recently come to the conclusion that the Jewish world needs to be a 'safe space' now. There are so many challenges, both physical and emotional, and most are not visible from the outside. Think about the wife of the injured soldier, the cousin of the kidnapped kibbutznik, the student of the educational counselor who was murdered this week — on the street, you would never know what they are experiencing.
Hila Tamir Adar, a social worker, approached me and discussed her notion of expanding the safe space. During Covid, she worked closely with people with disabilities who were informed about the deaths of their loved ones. Since then, she has dedicated her thesis to this issue. She’s traveled to Europe to study the field, and developed a project called, “The Bitter News.”
How do you inform a person with cognitive and developmental disabilities that their family member was murdered or kidnapped during Simchat Torah? How do you explain to them issues like death, funerals, shiva? Hila initiated a protocol for all caregivers, from doctors to IDF officers, and it is important to her that it reaches the wider audience.
Hila connected me with Yael Keidar, 41, a resident of Kibbutz Be'eri, with mild intellectual disabilities. On Simchat Torah, she had been staying at the home of her parents, Ofra and Sami, both of whom were murdered. She stayed in the safe room for long hours until she was rescued. The body of her mother is still being held by Hamas.
Hila recounts that Yael's parents had set up a therapeutic farm for her at the kibbutz and always gave her a sense of independence. “It's amazing to see how the empowering sentences they told Yael all her life, give her strength now,” Hila said. “Ofra was a cheerful and hardworking woman who loved sports and gardening, and volunteered at the kibbutz's pet corner. She is a model for parents with a child who is not 'according to the book.' Her healthy worldview towards Yael is simply inspiring.”
The motto “Together we will win,” says Hila, includes also people with disabilities. About a month and a half after October 7, she held a farewell ceremony with Yael at the family's burned house. “As long as there was no official funeral, Yael feels that the event is not over. She doesn't fully understand. That’s why it was important to initiate this ceremony, to enable her to part respectfully and give her closure.