Finding the Good in Every Child: A Powerful Lesson from the Tree of Knowledge

Parents often repeat to their children: “Money doesn’t grow on trees.” Well, neither does wisdom. Even the Tree of Knowledge was no exception. It certainly did not produce little capsules of wisdom and understanding.

As explained in Jewish teachings, the significance of the Tree of Knowledge lies in the intermingling of good and evil. When Adam ate from the tree, good became intertwined with evil, and evil became intertwined with good. From that moment onward, the two have existed together, making it increasingly difficult to distinguish one from the other.

Even within evil, there can be a hidden spark of goodness. The Talmud tells us that even Haman, one of the most notorious enemies of the Jewish people, had descendants who studied Torah in Bnei Brak.

Children, however, tend to see the world in much simpler terms. They often ask, “Is he one of the good guys or one of the bad guys?” They naturally gravitate toward clear distinctions between heroes and villains, right and wrong, good and evil.

However, the reality of human existence is far more complex. Good and evil are rarely separated into such neat categories. Our task is to seek out and gather the sparks of holiness concealed within the world around us, becoming, in a sense, magnets that draw these sparks toward us. This idea is connected to the spiritual significance of gathering the dispersed people of Israel.

The complexity of good and evil is reflected even in the mitzvah of the red heifer. Its ashes possess the remarkable ability to purify someone who has become ritually impure, yet those involved in preparing and administering them can themselves become impure. The very same mitzvah contains seemingly opposite effects.

We live in a world where good and evil, purity and impurity, are often intertwined. Learning to recognize the good within that complexity is one of our most important responsibilities.

What We Choose to See in Our Children

This principle applies not only to the world around us but also, perhaps most importantly, to the way we perceive and raise our children.

One of the foundations of effective parenting is understanding that we can always find something wrong if we look hard enough. We can focus on the distance between who our children are today and who we hope they will become. We can identify their shortcomings, disappointments, and failures. And if that is what we are searching for, we will undoubtedly find plenty of evidence.

But there is a danger in making our children's shortcomings the focus of our attention. The more we concentrate on what is wrong, the larger those shortcomings become in our own eyes. Gradually, we begin to see our children primarily through the lens of their weaknesses rather than their strengths, which creates an atmosphere that does little to encourage growth. Instead of helping children recognize their potential, it can leave them feeling trapped by their limitations.

When a child or teenager senses that their parents consistently see them as difficult, irresponsible, or disappointing, that perception can become deeply discouraging. They may begin to believe that no matter what they do, they will always be viewed in the same negative light. Rather than motivating change, this can reinforce the very behaviors their parents are hoping to correct.

The alternative is not to pretend that problems do not exist, but to consciously direct our attention toward the good. When we look for our children's positive qualities, we begin to notice strengths that might otherwise have gone unrecognized. When we acknowledge their efforts, appreciate their accomplishments, and recognize their good intentions, we help those qualities develop and flourish. The good we choose to recognize is often the good we help to strengthen.

This is one of the central responsibilities of parenting: not merely identifying what needs correction, but discovering what deserves encouragement and helping it grow.

Correcting Mistakes Without Defining the Child

Does this mean we should overlook inappropriate behavior or avoid addressing our children's mistakes? Certainly not.

Recognizing a problem is often the first step toward correcting it. We need to acknowledge what has happened, understand it, and sometimes give it a name.

We find an interesting allusion to this idea in Parshat Bereishit. When Adam was given dominion over the animals, one of his first responsibilities was to assign each creature a name. Naming something allows us to identify it, understand its nature, and distinguish it from everything else.

The same applies when dealing with undesirable behavior. We must be able to recognize and identify what needs improvement. Yet there is a crucial distinction between naming a behavior and assigning that name to the person who displayed it. A child's mistake is something they have done, but not necessarily a reflection of who they are.

A child who tells a lie has behaved dishonestly, but that does not mean the child is a liar. A child who wakes up late one morning has overslept, but that does not make the child lazy. A child who misses the proper time for reciting the Shema has missed a mitzvah, but that does not justify concluding that the child has no respect for religious observance.

These distinctions may seem subtle, but their educational implications are profound.

When we repeatedly describe children using negative labels, we risk turning temporary behaviors into fixed identities. A child who constantly hears that they are lazy, dishonest, careless, or irresponsible may eventually internalize those descriptions.

Once a child begins to believe that a particular weakness is an essential part of who they are, overcoming it becomes far more difficult. Why make an effort to change if everyone has already decided what kind of person you are?

Effective parenting requires us to separate the behavior from the person. We can make it clear that a particular action was unacceptable while continuing to affirm our belief in the child's goodness and capacity for growth. We can correct a mistake without allowing it to define the person who made it.

Acknowledging Pain Without Becoming Trapped by It

The Torah teaches a similar principle through the way we are commanded to remember and recount the Jewish people's suffering in Egypt. 

Regarding the Exodus, the Torah instructs us, “And you shall tell your child” (Exodus 13:8). We are not expected to erase painful experiences from our collective memory or pretend that they never happened. On the contrary, we are commanded to speak about them, acknowledge their significance, and pass their lessons on to future generations.

Giving an experience a name allows us to recognize what happened and begin to process its meaning. But the ultimate purpose is not to remain trapped within the pain or to allow suffering to become our permanent identity.

At the Passover Seder, we take the maror, the bitter herbs that symbolize the suffering of slavery, and incorporate them into korech, the sandwich traditionally made with matzah and maror.

This offers a profound lesson about the way we approach life's difficulties. The bitterness is not denied or discarded. It remains part of the experience, but it is placed within a broader context of faith, meaning, and redemption. Rather than allowing suffering to stand alone, we integrate it into a larger story of growth and transformation.

This reflects the spiritual process known as hachna'ah, havdalah, and hamtakah: subduing, separating, and sweetening. Through this process, we acknowledge the difficulty, distinguish it from the good, and ultimately seek to transform it into something constructive.

The pain itself may not disappear, but our relationship to it can change. What once seemed like an obstacle can become a source of greater understanding, spiritual growth, and renewed purpose.

The same principle applies to our children. Their struggles and mistakes deserve to be acknowledged, but they should never become the entire story of who they are.

The Opportunity to Begin Again

Perhaps the most encouraging lesson of all is that this approach does not apply only to our children, but it applies equally to us.

As parents, we inevitably make mistakes. There are times when we become frustrated, focus too heavily on the negative, or respond in ways we later regret. We may overlook opportunities to encourage our children or allow disappointment to influence the way we see them.

But those moments do not need to define us any more than our children's mistakes should define them. We can always choose to begin again. We can make a conscious effort to notice the good, judge others favorably, and recognize the positive qualities that may have been overshadowed by frustration or disappointment.

Even within the complicated mixture of good and evil that characterizes human existence, the spark of goodness remains. It may be concealed beneath difficult behavior, painful experiences, or repeated failures, but it has not disappeared.

Our responsibility is to continue searching for that spark, to recognize it when we find it, and to create the conditions in which it can flourish. That is true of our children, of the people around us, and of ourselves.

And perhaps that is one of the most meaningful lessons of Parshat Bereishit.

Just as the Torah begins with the words “Bereishit,” meaning “In the beginning,” we are reminded that every moment offers the possibility of a new beginning. We may have stumbled yesterday. We may have missed opportunities or failed to recognize the good that was right in front of us. But today, we can choose to see things differently.

We can turn the page, recognize the goodness that has always been there, and begin again.