About twenty-five years ago, when I was experiencing difficulty getting to sleep, the idea came to me to make up a list of thiry-nine "sanity cards" that would help me stay calm during crises of all kinds, both internal and external. I called this set of cards, "A Mishkan (Tabernacle) in my heart." Since there were 39 different types of work which went into building the Mishkan, I chose 39 different types of inner work that would build my spiritual home.

I hung a poster board in each room of the house containing various words, such as Patience, Kindness, Forgiveness and Gratitude or phrases like "G‑d shares my pain" and "It's temporary." One of my favorites was: "G‑d, Your will is my will." Below the words were phrases, gleaned from Ethics of Our Fathers and other holy works, which would remind me that all the difficulties G‑d sent me were meant to be used to spiritualize my life and bring holiness to the world.

During my children's growing years, I would use these phrases whenever we faced a loss or frustration. There were endless opportunities—accidents, terror attacks, items breaking or getting lost, illnesses, the sting of critical remarks—all the discomforts and heartbreaks involved in daily living. I would look up at the cards and mention the ones which helped me stay calm. We used them during the Gulf War, while waiting in hospitals and on trips around the country. Whenever my children were angry, scared or sad, I'd say: "Let's see what G‑d wants from us now." Over and over, when there was no way to change the situation, I'd say: "This is an opportunity to build trust and think, 'G‑d, Your will is my will."

Now fast forward twenty-five years. Last January, a sweet woman named Bonnie Siegel called from New York and asked me to speak on an international teleconference to raise funds for a school she wanted to create for handicapped children. We made the date for March 30 at 6 p.m. Israel time. Advertising went out around New York and someone came to my home to put in a video camera and teach me to use Skype. We had practice runs to prepare to deal with any technical difficulties. My son, Moshe, (my computer wizard) made sure things were working out. When the camera which had been supplied to me suddenly went dead on Sunday morning, Moshe managed to get an even better one.

At 5 p.m., I called Bonnie and we made sure everything was running smoothly between New York and Jerusalem. On my screen, I could see the hall filling with people and at 6 p.m., I began my talk. At 6:05, my screen went blank. I raced outside to check the fuses in my electric box. All the indicators were facing up. I pushed the restart button on my computer again and again. Nothing moved. Frantically, I called my son, Moshe, who is usually in Tel Aviv, and told him what had happened. Miraculously, he said, "I'm just around the corner!" Then I called New York and told them to hang on, that help was on the way. Two minutes later, Moshe walked in and calmly started pulling wires and pushing buttons. The screen was still black. And then suddenly the computer sprang to life and I went on with my lecture. Only ten minutes had been lost.

Later that night, I called Moshe and asked him, "How is it that you were so calm while you pulling all those wires?" "Ima," he replied, "I just kept telling myself over and over – G‑d, Your will is my will."

As parents, we don't always know how our behavior affects our children. One thing is for sure though: the only way to teach them to cope with life's difficulties is by setting a personal example, showing them that we are coping with faith, patience and courage. It isn't always easy, but if we do so—then they'll remind us to do the same.