I was coming home late and totally exhausted. I had asked the kids to make supper; tilapia with some sides. When I came home, the house smelled amazing, just as I’d imagined for the past couple of hours. I was famished and ready for a hot, delicious meal.

As I opened the pan and saw the fish in a beautiful tomato sauce with peppers and onions, I had a dreadful thought. Could they possibly have fried the onions in a milchig pan, and combined it with the tomato sauce leftover from a fleishig meal? Please G-d, no! No, no, no! But it was just as I feared.

I called up Rabbi Heber, almost in tears, and told him the whole story. He told me that indeed, the food was not kosher. I barely held back my tears as I thanked him and hung up — and then I really let it loose. I told the kids I was going to get some pizza and just cried it out for a few minutes. Then my cellphone rang. It was Rabbi Heber.

I really didn’t feel up to it, but I answered the phone. Rabbi Heber said, “That probably was your supper.”

“Yup.”

Then he continued, “I have this fund for people who ask sh’eilos about their supper and then can’t eat it because of kashrus reasons. You probably could use a pie or two now that you don’t have supper.”

I was so touched that I started tearing up again. I protested, sure he’d made up the fund on the spot to be nice, and said that I really appreciated the thought but no, thank you. He was equally insistent and asked for my address, which I ended up giving to him.

The check arrived two days later, and I kept it to remind me of the special kindness of a rav who went beyond the sh’eilah, and gave chizuk to a single mom in a new community, who was trying to juggle it all and was having a bit of a breakdown. I still have that check.

Eeta Travis, Baltimore, MD

Repriinted with permission of Mishpacha Magazine ©