“I hid this Menorah before the war, and now it’s the only thing I have to remind me of my parents…”

The year was 1945. The war was over. Private Winneger was a soldier in the US Army stationed in Warsaw in order to secure the city and help its residents in any way he could. 

One evening, Winneger was on patrol when he saw a figure running through a field just outside the city. “Halt or I’ll shoot!” The small figure suddenly disappeared behind some bushes. Private Winneger knew how to do this: he hid behind a tree and waited. Sure enough, after 20 minutes he heard a rustle and the small figure moved slowly to a spot near the trunk of a tree and started digging, not realizing that he was being watched by the American soldier.

Winneger slowly advanced toward the figure of the young boy. As he pulled something out from the earth, Winneger pounced on the young boy. Concerned that he might be holding a weapon, he wrestled the “weapon” from the young fugitive.

“Give it back! It’s mine!” shouted the boy in Polish. Realizing that he was not a threat, private Winneger tried to assure the boy that he was among friends. The boy, however, didn’t trust anyone with a uniform. The kind American soldier looked at the boy, thinking about what to do next, when his eyes caught sight of what the boy had picked out of the ground. “What a beautiful Menorah – is it yours?” The boy didn’t know what to answer. Winneger, realizing that the boy was scared,  assured him: “I am also Jewish! Listen to this ‘Shma Yisrael…'”

The boy calmed down. He opened up to the soldier about the fact that he had no idea where his parents were, and started crying. “I hid this Menorah before the war, and now it’s the only thing I have to remind me of my parents…”

Over the next few weeks, Private Winneger made sure to bring hot kosher meals to the young David and watched as the boy got stronger and stronger. The soldier’s heart went out to the boy, and the friendship blossomed. One day, the soldier turned to David and told him, “This morning I received an order to return to America, and I was thinking… I don’t see a great future for you here in Warsaw. Why don’t you come back to America with me? I will look after you, and make sure you go to school and find friends. Here you have nobody. In America, I’ll help you build a new life!” 

David didn’t have to think much. He really had nothing by pain in Warsaw, and was glad to leave with Winneger to New York – of course, together with his Menorah.

Winneger was active in the New York Jewish community. A friend of his, a curator of the Jewish Museum in Manhattan, saw the Menorah standing proudly on the mantelpiece. He called David into his office: “David, your Menorah is a very valuable historic European Menorah – it should be shared with the entire Jewish Community! I’ll give you $50,000 for it! Is it a deal?” Back then, remember, $50,000 was an absolute fortune!

David went silent. He didn’t want to sell. “I don’t think you understand. This Menorah has been in our family for 200 years. It is the only reminder I have of my past life. I can’t give it away!” No amount of persuading would convince David to part with his Menorah. It was his, and was not for sale.

Chanukah was approaching, and David was excited. They would light his Menorah! For the week before Chanukah, David spent his evenings shining the Menorah, as his mind floated back in time. Finally, the first night of Chanukah arrived. David lit his Menorah with joy tinged with deep sadness. The “family” sang Maoz Tzur, the song that reminds us all how Klal Yisrael overcomes its enemies and how we continue to hope for the future.

And then something incredible happened.

One evening of Chanukah, after they had lit the Menorah, David went upstairs to study and Winneger sat reading downstairs when there was a soft knock at the door. Winneger got up to open the door, not realizing that the knock was about to change their lives.

At the door stood a lady. “I… um… was walking down the street, and couldn’t help noticing your Menorah… it looks… wonderful… would you mind if I come inside to see it?”

Surprised, Winneger replied: “Of course, come inside, it is a really special Menorah.” He watched as the lady slowly walked over to the Menorah, and started touching it softly – whispering something in a foreign language. Clearly, the lady was in a trance. 

Quickly, Winneger ran upstairs. “David, come down quickly… your Menorah…” David ran downstairs quickly, and as he came into the room, the lady turned around. “Mama!!!!” the boy shrieked.

“David??… David???” cried the Lady, breaking down in hysterical tears. “David!” she shouted as they hugged and hugged. “You’re alive! You’re here! I don’t believe it, I don’t believe it!!!”

The Menorah had finally served its purpose. It had reunited mother and Son.

This is a true story, printed in “100 Rabbinic Tales of the Holocaust” by David Hoffman (as well as the Olameinu book on Chanukah). But the story is also the story of Klal Yisral, the Jewish People. Maoz Tzur is our story. We have been through exile after exile, persecution after persecution, yet we overcome. The lights of the Menorah shine through and prepare (as the word Chinuch suggests) for the future Ge’ulah.