My Parents said “I was so ugly”: Marc Gafni

Years back I gave a talk at a summer camp in one of the wealthier enclaves of Long Island. The kids in the camp were between ages 9 and 12. After my official talk, I had some extra time so I asked if I could perhaps have a casual talk to the kids alone. The camp director, being more creative and flexible than most, on the spot cancelled that afternoon’s activity and brought the kids together for a “kumzits,” a chat/singing session with the teacher. I sang with them, horsed around — thought I was outrageously funny — but wasn’t getting the kind of gut response I wanted. Laughter, participation — yes…but real presence — soul sharing — wasn’t happening.

Out of nowhere, I asked them, “When was the last time someone told you that you were beautiful?” Silence. “We need a first volunteer…” I pushed them.

So one brave nine-year-old gets up and with a tremble of hesitation says, “My mother told me on Saturday that I was the ugliest little girl she knew.” Silence — this time the quiet was worlds sadder, but somehow more real. Then a little boy — looking not more than ten — raised his hand and, in his own words, said, “My mother was in the holocaust. And she says that if she would have known that I would be her son, she wouldn’t have worked so hard to survive.”

And then the stories came tumbling out. Of parents, so many parents, who weren’t lovers, who didn’t know how beautiful their children were. Stories of so many parents who broke the commandment to love. So right now, before you do anything else, before you go on to the next page, before you turn on the TV…turn to your child, call up your friend, call out to your lover, and tell them just how beautiful they are.

Let your eyes mirror their splendor; let your mouth remind them of what wonders they already are.

marc gafni
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