“Manuel, this story must be told to the world. Please tell me who this doctor is”

I had to attend an event in Manhattan, and to avoid rush-hour traffic, I drove into the city a few hours ahead. I stopped off to purchase some stationery products at a small store.

I was pondering my annual Tishah B’Av lecture. This year, I would be speaking about Conversos — those Jews who practiced their Judaism secretly during the Spanish Inquisition. Many, of course, would eventually flee Spain, especially during its colonization of the Americas. I would focus on the inspiring mesirus nefesh of these Jews.

I entered the establishment, and a Hispanic-looking man who introduced himself as Manuel asked how he could help. I mentioned the product I was looking for.

Manuel said, “I won’t sell you that product. The owner is a known anti-Semite.”

“Are you Jewish?”

“Yes,” Manuel replied.

“So am I!” Emboldened, I asked, “Where are you from?”

“I’m from Mexico. I was born with a heart condition. When I was seventeen, my mother brought me here for medical treatment. I needed an expensive, complicated surgery. When she was told how much it would cost, my mother cried out, ‘There’s no way we can afford this.’

“This made the doctor rush to us. ‘I want to save your son’s life. Don’t worry about the money. I will do the surgery for no charge.’

“We couldn’t help but notice this doctor — this angel — was wearing a black skullcap on his head.

“I recovered and began my life in New York. I never forgot about the Jewish doctor.

“In college, I took a course in Spanish Jewish heritage. Once, the professor sang an old Jewish lullaby in Spanish. It was the same one my grandmother had sung to me. As the course moved on to the subject of Crypto-Jews and their secret practice of Judaism, I began to connect the dots. I recalled how in Mexico, every Friday night, wherever we ate dinner, my grandmother would light two candles.

“I began to do research and discovered my family emigrated from Spain in the fifteenth century. It was then that I realized I was a Jew.”

Manuel sighed. “I want to be a full Jew in the Land of Israel. If only I had the money to go.”

As we parted, I told him we would stay in touch. “Have trust in Hashem. He’s brought you to this point — He will never abandon you.”

Last week, Manuel called me, “Rabbi, I am calling you from Yerushalayim!”

“What? How?”

“Last month, I had my yearly check-up with the cardiologist — you know, the Jewish one?”

“Of course I remember.”

“I decided to wear my kippah to my appointment. As soon as I walked in, he said, ‘I never knew you were Jewish.’

“I told him my entire story, including my dream to go to Israel and live a proper Jewish life.

“The doctor began to cry and said, ‘Manuel, I was never privileged to have children. I consider you my child.’

“He then took out his credit card and booked me a ticket to Israel.

“Rabbi, I am calling you from the Kotel. I am in the middle of becoming a full Jew.”

I was stunned. “Manuel, this story must be told to the world. Please tell me who this doctor is.”

Manuel hesitated, then said, “He made one condition on his gift. He made me promise that until he leaves this world, I would never reveal his name.

“I intend to keep my promise for many more years.”

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1079)