Last year, around the end of the school year, one of my children asked what I thought was an appropriate way to show hakaras hatov to a child’s rebbi or morah. That question turned into a letter. So, as we approach Chanukah, I want to follow up.

Chanukah is a time of light — ner mitzvah v’Torah or. We celebrate those who brought light into a dark world. And I can think of no one who embodies that more, in the daily rhythm of our lives, than a child’s rebbi or morah.

Your mother and I no longer have children in school. We don’t stand at bus stops or rush to PTA meetings. But we remember it vividly — and we watch you now, raising your children with that same devotion and love, Baruch Hashem. What a privilege to see.

But there’s something that age and distance have taught us — something I want to gently remind you of, especially during these days of Chanukah. The light your children receive in Yeshiva and school doesn’t come automatically. It’s tended, day after day, by people who pour their hearts and souls into teaching Torah and building neshamos.

When you think of giving out Chanukah gelt, or writing checks for gifts, think also of the inyan — mentioned by many Gedolim — of supporting talmidei chachamim during Chanukah. It’s a time of harchavas hadas, of showing gratitude not just with words, but in a tangible, generous way. That envelope you give to a rebbi or morah isn’t just a “thank you.” It’s a declaration that you see them as partners in raising your children — shutafim b’Torah u’b’chinuch.

I’ve lived long enough to realize how easily we take that for granted. You send your son off each morning, and he comes home a little stronger, a little more confident in his davening or his learning — and you forget that somewhere in between, a rebbi noticed him, guided him, davened for him, maybe even lost sleep over him. You don’t always see the quiet moments: the morah who notices Aliza’s downcast eyes, or the rebbi who spends his break figuring out how to reach Donny after a rough week. But it’s happening. And it’s real.

And here’s something small that makes a big difference: if you’re truly thrilled with your child’s rebbi or morah, don’t just tell them — let the hanhalah know as well. A short email or phone call to the principal, sharing how much you appreciate a teacher’s care or dedication, can uplift both the mechanech and those who oversee them. Too often, the only time a parent calls the office is when there’s a complaint. Imagine the impact when the call is one of praise and gratitude. That kind of feedback strengthens the entire mosad, and it reminds the hanhalah just how deeply their staff is valued.

This isn’t about campaigns or pressure. It’s about perspective. We all spend money on things that show what we value — clothes, vacations, new phones, dinners out. That’s normal. But take a moment and ask yourself: what message am I sending my children about what we truly honor? If you give Chanukah gelt to the kids (as you should!), consider setting aside something meaningful for those who light up their world every day — their rebbi or morah.

It doesn’t have to be an extravagant amount. If things are tight, give what you can. Even a modest amount, given with warmth and a personal note, can go straight to the heart. Tell them specifically what they’ve done for your child — that you noticed, that you appreciate it. That sincerity is often worth more than the dollars inside.

And if you’re in a position to give more, don’t hold back. Many rebbeim and moros live with dignity but also with strain. Chanukah vacation often means extra expenses — not extra income. A gift at this time can bring real relief, and real encouragement. It’s not charity. It’s kavod haTorah.

I write this not as a rebbi, not as a fundraiser, but as a father and grandfather who has seen the long arc of chinuch. You children were shaped by your teachers, and now your children are being shaped by theirs. These are the people who hold up the light of Torah for the next generation. They deserve to feel seen, appreciated, and supported — especially on Chanukah.

May the candles you light this year reflect the inner light you’ve helped kindle — in your homes, in your children, and in those who guide them every day.

With love and pride,
Abba

The views expressed in this letter are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those YWN. Have an opinion you would like to share? Send it to us for review.