Lost in China, Found by a Song of Faith

Rabbi Yitzchak Dovid Grossman, the beloved Chief Rabbi of Migdal Ha’emek, shares a powerful personal story—one that began during a flight to China for his great-grandson’s brit milah (circumcision ceremony). His grandson, Rabbi David, and his wife are Chabad emissaries living in Chengdu, a massive Chinese city with over 14 million people—and only about 200 Jews.

The young couple's home serves as more than just their residence. It’s a warm, welcoming Chabad House, a center of Jewish life for travelers and locals alike. They offer everything from kosher meals and Shabbat meals, to a mikveh, prayer services, and help with putting on tefillin. More than that, they offer a caring ear and a comforting presence to Jews far from home.

When Rabbi Grossman learned that his grandson was planning to hold a brit milah for his newborn son, he knew it would be a historic moment. For over a thousand years, no circumcision had been performed in that region of China. He immediately decided to join them for the celebration.

As word spread that Rabbi Grossman would be in Chengdu for Shabbat, many Israeli backpackers and Jewish travelers decided to come. But one young man—named Roy—was not among them. He had set out for another Chinese city called Kunming, far from Chengdu.

Three days before Shabbat, Roy hitched a ride with a driver heading that way. But somewhere along the way, the driver changed course, and Roy decided to walk the rest of the distance. He had no idea how far it really was.

Hours passed. Then more. Eventually, Roy realized he was completely lost. No sign of people. No road. No cell signal. Just trees—dense, silent, and endless.

Exhausted, Roy sat on a rock and broke down. Panic crept in. Horrifying thoughts flooded his mind—what if he never found his way out? What if no one ever found him?

And then—something stirred deep in his memory. A moment from years ago. As a teenager in Jerusalem, he had studied at Himmelfarb, a religious high school. One day, his class visited Rabbi Grossman in Migdal Ha’emek. He couldn’t remember most of the visit—but he remembered a song.

It was a Hebrew song Rabbi Grossman had taught them:
“What was—was. The main thing is to start again. Father, renew me completely, ignite my soul.”

Now, sitting in the heart of a Chinese forest, Roy began to sing. Tears streamed down his face. Over and over, he sang the words. His voice, shaky at first, grew stronger. It wasn’t just a song—it was a prayer from the depths of his soul.

At that very moment, back in Chengdu, Shabbat had begun. Rabbi Grossman was sitting at the festive meal, speaking about the holiness of the Jewish soul—the little spark that always stays lit, no matter how far we wander.

Suddenly, the door opened. A dusty, pale young man stepped inside. It was Roy.

Everyone froze. Roy looked around in disbelief. The room was full of young Israelis. And at the head table—the very rabbi who had once taught him that long-forgotten song.

Roy later told them what had happened. A man working at a nearby construction site had heard someone singing in the woods and followed the voice. He found Roy, exhausted but alive, and drove him straight to the Chabad House.

Roy walked in just as Rabbi Grossman was speaking about the eternal flame inside every Jew. It wasn’t a coincidence.

“Hashem hears every prayer,” Rabbi Grossman said, tears in his eyes. “Even one whispered in a forest on the other side of the world.”