Years ago, I was taking my daughter to playgroup for her very first time. The pit in my stomach was growing; my anxiety was palpable. And yet, for her sake, I knew I needed to put on a mask of confidence and joy—even at that excruciating moment of separation. I blinked away my tears to show her strength I didn’t have, so that she could find her own.

Another time, my daughter ran into my arms, crying rivers of tears because a friend had mistreated her. My motherly instinct wanted to rush to her defense, confront this other child, and warn my daughter to stay far away. Instead, it took every effort to withhold my sympathies and calmly help my daughter find solutions. The very next day, when I saw the two happily playing together, it sent a fresh shiver of worry down my spine, but I held myself back. I would listen and guide, but I needed to stay on the sidelines as I allowed her to mature and confront such situations on her own.

There are times when our restraint says so much more than our actions. We express our greatest love not in words, but in silence; not in action, but in inaction; not in falling apart, but in being stoically strong; not in providing solutions, but in allowing our children to discover their own.

A teacher’s greatest presence is not felt in the classroom, just as a parent’s is not within the walls of her home, but in the messages and life lessons they impart.

In this week’s Torah portion, Tetzaveh, Moses’s name—for the first time since he was born—is missing.

When his nation sinned with the golden calf, Moses said to G‑d: “If You do not forgive them, erase me from the book that You have written” (Exodus 32:31). This was realized in this portion, when his name is “erased.”

And yet, though his name is missing, Moses’s presence and love for his people and G‑d is most evident. In fact, the word tetzaveh means “connection,” and through Moses, the Jewish people find their deepest connection and bond to G‑d.

When Moses asked that G‑d erase him from the Torah if G‑d would not forgive His people, he was demonstrating his essential unbreakable love and bond with them—and thereby their essential unbreakable bond with G‑d. He was thereby demonstrating that this bond transcends everything—even the Torah itself—and he thus obtained forgiveness for his people.

There are times when our love is so great, it requires words and actions. And there are times when our love is so great that it is evident in our restraint—and in the absence of our names.

Is there a situation when you demonstrated your love through quiet restraint?