Do I Let Him Fast?

Most people look at Yom Kippur with some trepidation about fasting. Perhaps they check the weather, hoping that it will not be too hot, or create strategies on the best ways to make it through the day. That’s an adult view of fasting.

My son, who is now nine, has a different perspective. Each year he asks me if he can also fast, and each year I tell him that it is not healthy for a child to fast - especially one with his metabolism. When he asks, I recall my own youthful enthusiasm for fasting and the friendly competition that used to spring up between the cousins in our family.

I’ve learned a lot about Jewish law since I was a child, and my son is benefiting from a full Jewish education; so this year, as we began to speak about the holidays, he made certain that I remembered that, according to the Shulchan Aruch, the Code of Jewish Law, a child should begin practising to fast at the age of nine. As he explained to me, this means fasting until mid-day, although I have also read that it is best to begin with waiting an extra hour or so before breakfast on Yom Kippur morning. From my point of view, it means that my son is no longer a young child; I must not only learn to let him spread his wings, but teach him how to do so as well.

Until now, following the guidelines of tradition, there has only been one Yom Kippur restriction that I have required my children to observe - the prohibition of wearing leather shoes. Of the five Yom Kippur restrictions (food/drink, washing, anointing, wearing leather shoes, and marital relations), only the wearing of leather shoes is considered not to have an effect on children’s health. My children, of course, are also incredibly enthusiastic about not washing on Yom Kippur (or making certain to wash only up to the first knuckles), but I think that might be for other reasons than piety.

I’ve always liked fasting on Yom Kippur. Granted, I always head into the holiday with anxiety about it, wondering if it will be difficult. Afterward, however, there is a tremendous sense of accomplishment. More than that, most years, the act of fasting has actually helped me to focus on my spiritual, rather than my physical, needs. Not at the beginning of the day, mind you. Then, in addition to the Yom Kippur prayers, I am often focussed on telling myself that I am not hungry and planning how I will survive the long day. Rather, somewhere in the early afternoon, my need for physical satisfaction wanes. I gain a sense of myself as more than a Diet Coke craving chocoholic. Perhaps the most fascinating fact about the Yom Kippur fast to me has always been my lack of interest in breaking the fast afterward. I’m just not hungry. In fact, I often wish it wasn’t yet over.

Will I let my son fast this year? The choice is no longer really mine. As much as I may wish to deny it, I do see a difference in him from last year. He makes choices for himself and assumes opportunities for independence. The choice I do have is to make his practice fasting something meaningful rather than an opportunity to gloat in front of his younger sisters. Perhaps I will invite him to join me in some of the prayers or ask him to use that extra hour before he eats to contemplate what Yom Kippur means to him. And since it is the Day of Atonement, perhaps I will use that time to apologize to God for all the times I forget to thank Him for this wonderful child.