I had been spending Shabbat after Shabbat with Jonathan and Julie and we’d become close friends. Then one Shabbat lunch, Jonathan asked me out of the blue: “You’ve been enjoying Shabbat meals with our group for so long now, but I don’t think I’ve ever asked: How did you find your way here?”

So I told him this story.

About a year and a half previous, it was Hanukka, and to my delight, The Grateful Dead were playing four shows in a row, two of which coincided with nights of Hanukka.

At the time, I didn’t feel very connected to Judaism or the Jewish community. Even so, when I went to the “Dead show,” I took my candles and menora with me so I could at least light them in the parking lot before going into the concert. My non-Jewish friends were bemused.

Between the band’s first and second set, someone handed me a piece of paper. I looked down to see a picture of the Dead’s icon-skeleton wearing a kippa and lighting a menora! Written on it were the words to one of my favorite songs:

“Once in while you get shown the light in the strangest of places if you look at it right…”

The message seemed so clear to me. Hanukka comes around during the darkest part of the year. And it is during this intense darkness that Hanukka tells us to always have hope, just as the lights of our menoras break through the bleakness of the dark.

When we gaze at the flames, growing brighter each night, we sense not only the miracles that occurred for our ancestors,but also the miracles that we experience in our lives today.

No matter how down or stuck we feel, or even how disconnected we seem, we should never give up or despair — because we can find the light even in the “strangest of places” — if we keep our eyes and hearts open.

I broke away from my intense thoughts, trying to locate the guy who handed me the paper. I wanted to express my gratitude.

Was that him walking away?

He glanced back at me for a moment that seemed much longer, and all I saw was this big, sweet Cheshire-cat kind of grin as he disappeared into the crowd.

Who was this Hanukka messenger who made me feel a part of the Jewish people again?

A few months later, my friend, Janeen, dragged me kicking and screaming (okay, maybe just kicking) to a Shabbat dinner at her friend Stuie’s apartment. The thought of spending a Friday night with a bunch of “religious” Jews didn’t sound so great to me at the time. Finally, she said the magic words, “Stuie’s a Deadhead, too, you know.”

“Hmmmm, alright,” I thought. “One little dinner won’t kill me.”

What an unforgettable night! I knew I would have to come back again. Everyone was singing beautiful tunes. Even though I had never heard them before, I felt like I had always known them.

And then there was this rabbi from San Francisco. I had never heard a rabbi speak so deeply, yet humorously, at the same time.

Afterward, I felt compelled to tell him about my special Hanukka experience. He laughed and asked my host, Stuie, to tell me how Stuie wanted to spread a Hanukka message to Jews at a Grateful Dead concert.

Stuie related a story of several years previous, at Hanukka, when he was in the Bay Area for some Grateful Dead shows. The band played the song, “Scarlet Begonias” and when they came to the line, “Once in while, you get shown the light, in the strangest of places, if you look at it right,” he had an inspiration. He thought it was a perfect line for what Hanukka — the “festival of lights” — is all about.

Thus was the birth of not only a flyer, but a friendship. I couldn’t believe I was having an awesome Shabbat dinner at the home of the very guy who conceived that flyer!

The following Shabbat, I came back, even though my friend Janeen couldn’t join me. And slowly I started to come more and more, first once or twice a month, and eventually, every week.

“So,” I explained to Jonathan and Julie, “That’s how I got here...”

When I finished my story, I looked around at my friends.

How could I have missed it?

There in front of me was Jonathan sprouting that big Cheshire-cat grin.

“I’m the one who handed you that flyer.”