The Weiss family had been counting down the days.
After weeks of juggling work, school schedules, carpools, and winter colds, they were finally on the road for a mid-winter vacation. Their destination was a quiet hotel in a rural area—snow-covered fields, winding roads, and a sense that time moved just a little slower there.
By the time they arrived, the sky was already dark. The lobby was warm and peaceful, and the children ran ahead toward the room, excited to choose beds and look out at the snow.
All except one.
Mrs. Weiss noticed immediately that Avi, their seven-year-old, wasn’t himself. Normally full of questions and energy, Avi sat down quietly, leaning against his suitcase.
“Avi?” she asked. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t feel good,” he said softly. She placed her hand on his forehead and felt the heat right away. A thermometer confirmed it—Avi had a fever.
The younger children were distracted with snacks, but the parents knew they had a problem. They were far from home, in a town they didn’t know, with limited resources.
The front desk confirmed what they suspected: there was one small pharmacy in town, and nothing else nearby.
“I’ll go,” Mr. Weiss said, pulling on his coat.
At the pharmacy
The drive was dark and quiet. The pharmacy was small, almost old-fashioned, with shelves stocked mostly with unfamiliar brands. There was only one children’s fever reducer available—a cherry-flavored syrup from a company he didn’t recognize. With no alternatives, he bought it and headed back.
Back in the hotel room, Mrs. Weiss examined the bottle carefully. “I’ve never seen this brand before,” she said. She turned it over and scanned the ingredients. Then she paused.
“Glycerin,” she read. She looked up. “Isn’t glycerin sometimes animal-derived?” Mr. Weiss hesitated. “But it’s medicine. And Avi has a fever.” “Yes,” she said, “but it’s a syrup. It tastes good.”
They both stopped. They had learned enough over the years to know that medicine doesn’t always get an automatic heter, especially when it’s flavored and pleasant.
The call
“Let’s call the Refuah B’Halacha center,” Mrs. Weiss said.
Mr. Weiss stepped into the hallway and made the call.
The Rav listened carefully as he explained the situation—the fever, the rural hotel, the off-brand syrup, and the ingredient list.
“You did the right thing by calling,” the Rav said. “Glycerin can indeed come from animal sources, and that can raise a kashrus concern.”
Mr. Weiss asked what was on his mind. “But it’s medicine—shouldn’t that make it okay?”
“In many cases, yes,” the Rav replied. “But here, since it’s a pleasant-tasting syrup, we can’t rely automatically on the leniencies we use for bitter or inedible medications.”
The Rav paused. “Let me check this brand, I have a list here next to me.”
After a short moment, he came back on the line. “This particular syrup could indeed be a problem.”
Mr. Weiss felt stuck. “There’s nothing else available. The pharmacy is the only one for miles.”
“That’s not an issue,” the Rav said calmly. “Because this is a case of a choleh, there is room to be lenient.”
The Rav explained that while we generally do not mevatel issur lechatchila, the Bezel HaChochmah (chelek 5, siman 39) rules that for a choleh, it is permitted to be mevatel lechatchila when necessary.
Then the Rav explained the practical side.
“Typically,” he said, “companies add about 20% glycerin to this type of syrup. So, if a child is given a 5 ml dose, that would mean roughly 1 ml of glycerin, which may be non-kosher.”
He continued, “If you mix that syrup into about 60 ml of juice—roughly two ounces—the glycerin will be batel by sixty.”
Mr. Weiss listened carefully. Then he asked, “but don’t I need 60 over all of it?” “No” the rav reponded. He continued to explain that generally your right, but hear you can be lenient as the Melamed Leheyel (siman 83) poskins for a choleh all you need to mevatel is the actual issur.
“But before you do that,” the Rav added, “you must check with your pediatrician to make sure that diluting the medicine won’t affect the dosage.”
They did exactly that. The doctor confirmed that adding juice in that amount would not affect the medication’s effectiveness.
Back in the room, they carefully mixed the syrup with the juice as instructed and gave it to Avi.
Within a short time, his fever began to come down. He fell asleep calmly, his breathing steady.
Vacation begins
By morning, Avi woke up smiling.
“Can we go outside today?” he asked. “I want to play in the snow.”
Mrs. Weiss smiled back, relieved. “After breakfast.”
As the family bundled up and headed out into the crisp winter air, Mr. and Mrs. Weiss shared a quiet moment of gratitude.
Even far from home, even in a small rural town, halacha had guided them—not only with sensitivity, but with clarity and compassion.
At the Refuah B’Halacha Center, we are here to provide guidance for real-life challenges, big and small. Whether it’s a question about Shabbos, kashrus, or navigating difficult personal situations, our experienced Rabbunim are ready to listen and advise.
If you ever find yourself wondering about a medical halacha question — big or small, serious or just something that’s been on your mind — remember that you don’t have to figure it out alone. The Refuah B’Halacha Center is here to help, with experienced rabbanim available to guide you through even the most sensitive or confusing situations.
Refuah B’Halacha Hotline: 732 755 0851 or email us at www.refuahbhalacha.org
Our Rabbanim;
R’ Yaakov Forchheimer shlit”a
R’ Noach Isaac Oelbuam shlit”a
R’ Shmuel Fuerst shlit”a
R’ Uri Deutch shlit”a
R’ Micha Cohen shlit”a
R’ Moshe Zev Feldman shlit”a
R’ Baruch Hirshfeld shlit”a
R’ Daniel Neustadt shlit”a
R’ Avrohom Yaged shlit”a
We specialize in
- Mental health
- Shabbos
- Treatment issues
- Hospital stays
- Fertility
- Kashrus
We are here Sunday through Friday 8:00 am till 10:00 pm and erev Shabbos 10 minutes before candle lighting.
Refuah B’Halacha Hotline: 732 755 0851 or email us at www.refuahbhalacha.org
