Just before Chanukah, we attended a fellow shliach’s siyum Sefer Torah. I was impressed to see reporters and camera crews from the local news station covering his event.
“You must have had to arrange this weeks ago!” I said to him.
“No, not at all! I just called them a couple days ago.”
That gave me hope. Maybe it wasn’t too late to boost publicity for our menorah lighting? It would be the perfect form of pirsumei nissah, publicizing the miracle of Chanukah! I contacted the radio, newspaper, and TV stations, and our event was featured on the evening news.
The next day, I received a call from an unknown number.
“Hi, Rabbi. I want to know when you’ll be lighting the menorah again,” the woman on the phone said, introducing herself as Sivan*.
“We only do the public lighting once a year. Contact me next year, and I’ll let you know when and where the lighting will be held,” I told her. I’m usually very cautious with strangers, since many Germans still harbor deeply seated anti-Semitism. Something prompted me to ask her, “Are you Jewish?”
“Am I Jewish? I’m Israeli!” she said, in Hebrew. “My husband isn’t Jewish, but when he sat down to watch the news tonight, he saw a menorah on the screen. He quickly called me over, and I watched the whole segment. I’m so sorry I missed it!”
“Wow! So nice to meet a fellow Jew! We have many other opportunities for you to connect with your Judaism! We’d love to meet you in person!”
Sivan lived in a small suburb of Aachen. She’d never known there were any other Jews around her. Through our Chabad house, she met some Jewish friends, and became part of our community.
