By Zalman Ben-Nun
Bonjour! It’s me, Francois.
See how beautiful it is here. Did you notice the big, beautiful menorah in the middle of the plaza? Look at the giant bucket truck that just arrived, which fills the full width of the street.
The lights of the Eiffel Tower are reflected in the river that flows beneath it. From the other side, colorful lamps hang on every corner and bring out the beauty of the central menorah.
It’s gorgeous! The sights, the smell of doughnuts, the vibrant colors, the special atmosphere, the miracles … ah, yes, the miracles! Now, according to the program, before the menorah is lit with the participation of the president of France, Tzachi, an IDF officer, is supposed to go up and tell his fascinating story.
One second, I’m running to grab a place in the front row. Listen together with me, it sounds interesting!
“It was a dark night in the middle of Chanuka,” Tzachi began. “Roni, the commander of our unit, received intelligence about a band of terrorists that planned on leaving their village in order to perpetrate a deadly explosive attack in the center of the country. Roni immediately convened the officers of the various troops and ordered them to immediately put together a group of brave fighters that would penetrate deeply into enemy territory, eliminate the terrorists, and return safely.
“Dark clouds were in the sky as we, ten well-armed soldiers, left on our dangerous mission. Strong winds began to blow and it started to drizzle, which made it hard for us to march. In addition, the heavy equipment that we carried made the long trek difficult. Our combat boots sank in the mud that began to develop because of the rain, but we continued on our mission. We had to stop the terrorists, the sooner the better!
“The first houses of the village came into view. We walked more quickly and suddenly heard a long, blood-chilling volley of shots. We instinctively dropped down on the wet ground and began returning fire at the source of the shooting.
“Bullets began to whistle between the rocks and explode with a loud noise. It was chaotic on the hill as we fought a bloody battle, a fight for our lives.
“I took a firmer grip of the long rifle and shot at the houses. A bullet that flew past my ear got my attention and a second later, I heard the shout of Ronen screaming, ‘Save me! I was hit! Medic! Medic!’
“We were terrified, but there was no time to stop! I found protection by hiding behind a large rock, said T’hillim for Ronen, and continued fighting. Every moment was vital.
“Ronen’s screams mixed with the voices of other members of the group. To our surprise, the terrorists had prepared an ambush for us in the village and had opened fire on us from among the houses. The situation was getting worse and worse. A terrible feeling began to slowly creep into our hearts. It looked hopeless. They’d pick us off, one by one.
“Suddenly, strong explosions could be heard from within the village. A series of short bursts of shots among the houses. Then silence. Something had happened.
“The shooting stopped. We slowly lifted our heads. I held binoculars to my eyes and relaxed. That was it; the shooting had stopped. Someone had eliminated the terrorists, but who?”
Tzachi took a deep breath and adjusted the microphone. He looked at the large crowd who looked back at him expectantly and he continued his story:
“A few minutes went by and then a few shadowy shapes headed in our direction and they shouted in Hebrew, ‘It’s okay, we are Jews!’
“We looked at them in trepidation but after a few seconds, we identified them. They were our men, mista’arvim, undercover soldiers disguised as Arabs. They lived among the Arabs, spoke their language and acted like them. But when the time came, they acted, killed the terrorists and saved our lives.”
The crowd at the menorah lighting ceremony applauded. They were inspired by Tzachi’s story of miraculous rescue. It brought the blessing to life, “for the miracles You did for our ancestors … at this time!”
Tzachi descended the high platform and the shliach took his place. With a smile, he turned to the microphone and said, “What an amazing miracle that took place in our time, the incredible rescue of a group of Israeli soldiers, at the last moment. But I want to tell you about a miracle that occurred here, for us, in France, with our mista’arvim.”
I listened and wondered. What miracle was he referring to? And mista’arvim? I thought that could only happen in Eretz Yisroel.
“Hundreds of years ago, the French Revolution took place, led by Napoleon Bonaparte.”
The French president nodded and the rabbi continued speaking. “Napoleon brought huge changes, but it was problematic for the Jews. The Alter Rebbe fought with all his might for the downfall of Napoleon. He thought that the spirit of liberty and more openness, although improving their material circumstances, would be spiritually detrimental for the Jews. The revolution could have been an excellent idea if it was based on faith and trust in G-d.
“We know that Napoleon had his downfall, but the real revolution is taking place here and now, in the center of France!”
The crowd stood there, uncertain about what he meant, and the president looked at the shliach questioningly.
“It is we, who live in the country of France, who live like Frenchmen and speak French, who operate from within, just like those Jews who live like Arabs in Arab villages. We are lighting the menorah in the central square with the participation of the president of the country. Thus, we are able to spread Judaism openly in this country which represents the spirit of apostasy!”
Now I understood. We really are like mista’arvim, but what’s the miracle?
The rabbi continued, “As for the miracle you are wondering about. The miracle is the successful Jewish revolution! Do you know to what extent? I’ll give you an example. Because we sing the words of ‘HaAderes V’Ha’Emuna’ to the tune of the French national anthem, we ‘conquered’ the anthem to the point that the government decided to change it. It’s a miracle!”
The president clapped, and the crowd stood there in astonishment. I watched as the menorah was lit and the message echoed in my mind: Yes, now too, miracles happen. We can see Geula and this is one of the proofs.