Fostering Empathy in Our Children

21 Tevet     January 10, 2026

He spoke truth to power, orchestrated ten plagues, struck Egypt’s firstborn, freed the slaves, split the sea, and drew bread from heaven. Who am I describing? You know the answer. Moses.

But G-d did not choose Moses because he performed miracles. Moses performed miracles because G-d chose him.

So why was Moses chosen? What quality marked him as leadership material?

Moses was the most empathetic Jew on earth. He could not sleep peacefully while others suffered. Moses grew up in Pharaoh’s palace, insulated from the anguish of his people. Yet he refused to remain distant. He left the palace to see their pain. He could not enjoy comfort while his brothers labored under the lash.

When he arrived at their worksite, his heart broke. He climbed down from his royal carriage and placed his own shoulder beneath their crushing loads. One shoulder could not ease their burden—but knowing they had an ally in the palace made all the difference. Their spirits lifted.

When Moses saw an Egyptian beating a Jew, he could not stand aside. He intervened and saved him. When he saw two Jews fighting, again he stepped in and stopped the violence. For this, he was sentenced to death and forced to flee Egypt (Exodus 2:11–15).

He arrived in Midian and sat by a well. There he saw local shepherds harassing defenseless women. These women were not his people. This was not his fight. Yet Moses could not sit idly by while others suffered—even strangers. This was his nature (Chasam Sofer on Exodus 2:17).

He married one of the women he defended and became a shepherd for her father’s flock. As a shepherd, Moses cared for every sheep according to its needs. He led the lambs to tender grass, the older sheep to intermediate pasture, and the strongest to thick blades.

One day, a sheep strayed. Moses chased it until it stopped to drink from a stream. Moses lifted the sheep and carried it back, whispering, “Poor little one. You must be tired and thirsty.” At that moment, G-d chose Moses to lead the Jewish people from Egypt. One who has compassion for a brother, a stranger, and even a sheep—such a person is fit to lead My people (Midrash Rabbah, Shemot 2:2).

A True Leader

A leader is not one who grows fat on the public purse. True leaders set themselves aside for the people. Their only concern is the nation’s welfare. They lie awake at night worrying about those in their care.

Moses could not sleep if even one sheep was in distress. How much more so when an entire nation cried out in agony.

G-d did not want a leader who would grow pompous and vain in power. He wanted a leader filled with compassion and empathy.

There are two kinds of good people—but one is greater.The first feels pain when witnessing suffering and does what they can to help. Then they step back. They sleep well, knowing they did their part. Others may still suffer, but they have discharged their responsibility. Let someone else take over.

The second adopts the suffering as their own. They do not walk away until the problem is solved. They cannot rest until the debt is paid, the crisis resolved, the burden lifted—even when it was never theirs to begin with.

That is true empathy: feeling another’s pain as acutely as your own.

That is what G-d wanted in a Jewish leader. And that is what G-d found in Moses.

Moses didn’t merely grieve for the Jews. He carried their loads. He later confronted Pharaoh and secured them a weekly day of rest—an unprecedented concession in the ancient world. He chose Shabbat, but that is almost beside the point. What matters is that Moses made their suffering his personal concern (Shemot Rabbah 1:27; Chochmah U’Mussar 1:2).

To Raise a Child Like Moses

Although much of this occurred in last week’s Torah portion, the Torah introduces Moses anew in Va’eira—after the burning bush, after his return to Egypt, and after his first confrontation with Pharaoh.

Why repeat his story? We already know who Moses is.

Because Moses was not born in a vacuum.

A child with extraordinary empathy may be born with that gift—but only parents who embody it can bring it to life. And even then, empathy must be modeled to be activated. Otherwise, it lies dormant.

Children raised by parents who live compassion daily absorb mercy, responsibility, and solidarity with every breath.

Who shaped Moses’ boundless empathy? Who forged his humility and moral courage?

His parents—Amram and Yocheved.

They were leaders of the Jewish people. They had two children, Miriam and Aharon, when Pharaoh’s decrees grew unbearable. In addition to enslaving the adults, Pharaoh ordered that every Jewish baby boy be drowned in the Nile. The cries of Israel pierced the heavens.

Yocheved and Miriam served as midwives. Ordered to kill newborn boys, they secretly saved them. When Pharaoh confronted them, they offered excuses and continued rescuing Jewish children. Pharaoh then ordered his soldiers to seize the infants themselves and cast them into the river.Unable to bear the suffering, Amram and Yocheved separated. The people followed their lead, and Jewish births ceased. The cries stopped—but so did the future.

Miriam protested. “Father,” she said, “your decree is harsher than Pharaoh’s. Pharaoh decreed against the boys alone. You have decreed against all Jewish children.”Moved by her words, Amram and Yocheved remarried. The nation followed their example.

It was dangerous. Pharaoh’s soldiers would return in nine months. And they did. Yocheved was forced to place her newborn son into the Nile in a basket of reeds.

Yet Amram and Yocheved set aside fear for the sake of the Jewish future. They understood that leadership means doing what must be done—despite the cost.   This was the home into which Moses was born. This was the environment that shaped him.No wonder he became the greatest leader our people ever knew.[1]

Our Lesson

Our children watch us constantly. They learn not from what we say, but from what we do. Over time, they become reflections of our choices.

We have the power to shape the next generation.  And with that power comes sacred responsibility.

[1] This essay is based on Likutei Sichos 16, p. 63.