What Being Mocked As a Child Taught Me About Judging Others

When I was a little girl, I had an autoimmune disorder called juvenile rheumatoid arthritis. From head to toe, I would swell and look disfigured. From head to toe, I would ache, and it would be hard to move. You can imagine the social life I had—the teasing and mocking—and the amount of sport and physical activities that I engaged in as a child, which was close to nil.

In my teens, I grew out of the disorder and felt so happy by my physical comfort that I began to dance and I began to run. I swam and I joined every sports team that high school offered. I was never good at sports, but boy did I have fun. The first time I competed on the swim team, I didn’t come in first, second or even third, but I also didn’t come in last, and that felt good. How much I appreciated being “average,” which for me was equivalent to being a champion. It’s amazing how a feat for one might not be a big deal for another.

To this day, I get satisfaction going on my daily 10K run—not running fast, but just knowing that I can do it, knowing that there was a time when I couldn’t run at all!

I now have five children, thank G‑d. Five children who have different talents and capabilities. One works hard and repeatedly scores perfectly on tests; another works hard, but earning a 60 or 70 percent is a great accomplishment. One is naturally more patient; the other more impulsive. One naturally likes to share; the other is willing to share, but with difficulty. One is surrounded by a bunch of friends, outgoing and naturally friendly, while another is happy to be sitting on a couch alone, reading for hours.

When I see my quiet child making an effort to welcome guests and go out of her way to make them feel comfortable, I think to myself, “Wow, what an effort!” Or when I see that child who has a hard time sharing, or when I see the child put in the effort to study for a test even though the material is so hard, again I think to myself, “Wow, that took effort!”

As we start the New Year, Rosh Hashanah, and as I buy school books for my children, memories of my childhood flood my mind. I think, “You really never know where a person is coming from.” And it’s so true. You see a person standing, and you don’t know what energy it took to get them to stand. You see a person running, and you don’t know the effort that it took for them to run. I’m not just talking about it from a physical perspective, but from an emotional, mental and spiritual one.

It is written (Mishnah, Rosh Hashanah 1:2) that on the holiday, each person passes before G‑d, the King of Kings, and is judged on actions done in the previous year. Why is G‑d looking and judging each one individually? Maybe because He knows. G‑d knows how much effort you put into something, and He knows why you did what you did. G‑d knows when you have a weakness and understands your strengths. G‑d knows and judges you based on you alone, and where you are coming from. G‑d is a gracious and compassionate Father Who knows His children inside and out.

In that sense then, there is no competition and no race. There is no envying another person and feeling bad that you can’t be like them, and also no judging another person for doing what they did. Because how do we know where anyone comes from?

I think about this during these days, as people ask for forgiveness and try to forgive. Sometimes, we might think, “How could I forgive so-and-so for doing what they did?” But when you think about it, if a person is coming to you sincerely and asking for forgiveness, then maybe we can find within ourselves the compassion to understand that we don’t always understand.

Maybe that word was said in a moment of weakness? Maybe that act was done in a moment when as hard as they tried, they felt, at the time, like it was too much of an impossible feat to overcome? G‑d knows, but mortal humans do not. We simply don’t know how much effort it took them to get to where they are now. Knowing this enables us to emulate G‑d, our compassionate and merciful King.