What Wouldn't You Do for a Loving Father?

The Yetzer Hara’s Machinations

The yetzer hara—our inner voice of resistance to everything holy—makes it feel like keeping the Torah and mitzvot is nothing but hard work and that however hard we try, we still won’t get it right. It gives us messages like:

"Should I really give up so many of the things I enjoy just to obey the Torah?"

"Is it really worth the sacrifice to keep the commandments?"

It also prompts us to question every choice:

"Should I really wear a long skirt in this heat, when people are going to stare?"

"Should I stop speaking lashon hara (gossip) even when all my friends don’t care?"

"Do I really have to be so particular about keeping kosher?"

"Do I really need to recite brachot (blessings) over food—it’s just one more thing to do?"

The Secret to Overcoming Resistance

Let me tell you a short story that can shift everything. It only takes a minute to read—but it holds the key to beating that voice inside.

There was once a country where all the king’s sons wore copper crowns. One day, the king called his oldest and most beloved son and told him, “Take off your crown.”

The son was stunned—even heartbroken. “Does my father no longer want me to serve as a prince? Doesn’t he love me anymore?”

He was furious; he decided to refuse the order, and even contemplated running away.

But the next day, when his emotions had cooled, his conscience quietly said, “Listen to your father.”

So, reluctantly, still hurting, the son decided, “I’ll do this for him.” And with a heavy heart, he took off the crown and handed it over, expecting a punishment, expecting to be entirely demoted.

But instead of scolding him, the king took the copper crown, smiled, and embraced his son with love. Then he placed a golden crown, glistening with gems, on his son’s head.

“My dear son,” he said, “you have shown me how wise you are, and how deserving of honor. The only reason I asked for your copper crown was so I could give you something even more valuable. You’re not being punished. You’re being chosen—for something higher. I love you more than anyone.”

Trembling, the son said with tears in his eyes, “If only I had remembered right away that everything you do is for my benefit. I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you sooner.”

The Message for Us

When we give something up for the sake of a mitzvah—when we dress modestly even if our friends laugh at us, recite brachot even when we’re in a rush, hold our tongues when everyone else is gossiping—we’re not losing anything. We’re being crowned.

The harder the challenge, the greater the reward.

Every time you push through and choose the right path—even when it’s tough—Hashem sees it. He remembers. Every effort. Every test. Every time you didn’t give up.

So… will you keep doing it?

For our Father in heaven?