The search for meaning, truth, and purpose brought Noa*, a young Jewish woman from Eretz Yisroel, to China. But her journey led her in many directions, and she enrolled in a program at a Buddhist monastery, where she felt she found calm and spirituality.

At the same time, Noa grew close to the Rebbe’s shliach to the region, Rabbi Dovi Hennig, of Chengdu, China. Through their connection, she slowly started drawing closer to Yiddishkeit and began attending programs at the Chabad House.

Shortly before Chanukah, Noa informed Rabbi Hennig that she would not be attending the public Chanukah lighting at the Chabad House. The monastery, she explained, was an eight-hour drive from the Chabad House, and she planned to go there to participate in a ceremony with the local monk.

“At first, I tried to convince her to stay with us,” Rabbi Hennig later told Anash.org. “But I soon realized there was no one to talk to – she had made up her mind. So I suggested that at least she take a menorah with her and light it there. A Jew, wherever they are, can still light Chanukah candles.” Somewhat apprehensive, Noa agreed and brought the menorah with her.

When the time came, Noa lit the menorah privately in her room. However, just as she was lighting the candles, the monk walked in unexpectedly. To her great surprise, he stood quietly and watched, visibly moved by what he saw.

When Noa finished, the monk asked if she could light the menorah in front of everyone. Noa agreed. Standing before the gathered participants, she lit the menorah and recited the brachos. All the meantime, the monk sat nearby, visibly crying.

When the lighting was complete, the monk shared, with tears in his eyes, that he had been born to a Jewish mother and that, according to Jewish law, he was Jewish. He had left home in America at the age of 22, and eventually became interested in Buddhism, remaining at the monastery for many years.

Noa put the monk in touch with Rabbi Hennig, and they spoke on the phone. “That Chanukah lighting ignited something deep within him,” Rabbi Hennig told Anash.org. “The spark of his Jewish neshamah was awakened!”

The experience deeply affected Noa as well. What she had thought was her path to truth suddenly lost its allure. The lighting of the menorah – specifically in that place – left a strong impression on her. She left everything behind, returned to Eretz Yisroel, to pursue her own Yiddishkeit.

“The Jewish neshamah of every Yid is there, waiting to be ignited – sometimes even in the darkest places,” Rabbi Hennig says. “We just have to do our part and reach out. You never know where it can lead.”