On the evening of Sunday, Dec. 14, in below-zero temperatures, our community gathered for the annual menorah lighting on Wilmette Village Hall’s lawn.
The cold was enough to keep most families home. And after the brutal attack in Sydney, many Jewish parents shared a quiet fear. A public event, outdoors, at night, felt like a risk. No one would have blamed anyone for deciding to stay inside.
Yet our Jewish community came out in record numbers.
Families bundled their children in layers. Teenagers showed up with red cheeks and frozen fingers. Elderly couples stood together in the wind. People arrived not because it was convenient or safe, but because something in their hearts told them they needed to be there.
A man named Ben walked over and, although Jewish, I had never met him before. He came early, and I told him he should go home to warm up with his family. He shook his head and said, I have to be here. It was definitely not comfort that brought him there. It was conviction. Sometimes the soul speaks more clearly than reason.
In the Jewish tradition, the Chanukah menorah is placed at the window or doorway and lit at night. It is meant to shine outward, to bring light into places where darkness feels strongest.
Gathering this year required courage because many Jewish families have been weighing questions of safety in ways they
never imagined. But the menorah teaches that hiding who we are has never protected us. Jewish life survives by being lived with confidence and clarity.
This is why the Lubavitcher Rebbe launched the public menorah campaign. He understood that Jewish life grows stronger when its light is brought into the open. When Jews retreat inward, Jewish life does not become safer. A community’s light grows strongest when it is lived openly and with pride.
That Sunday, I saw that message come alive.
To the neighbors, allies, police, and local officials who stood with us, thank you. Your support mattered. When a village stands together, even the loneliest night feels bright.
Rabbi Moshe Teldon
Chabad Wilmette
