You’ve probably never heard of Deming, a small New Mexican city located about 60 miles west of more popular Las Cruces. We weren’t familiar with it either, until earlier this summer, when we received a request for a visit from Sam and Nancy, a Jewish couple living there. Roving rabbis love getting requests like that—they eliminate much of the legwork—and we happily hopped into the car.

The visit went well, thank G‑d. Sam and Nancy were friendly and we chatted for quite a while. Sam was quick to agree put on tefillin, and they also agreed to have their mezuzahs checked. When we opened the mezuzah hanging on the back door, we saw that the scroll was completely dried up due to the intense desert heat, and the entire first line of “Shema Yisrael” had been erased! “No worries, we’ve got a new, kosher mezuzah for you,” we hastily reassured them, and gave Sam the honors of affixing it to the door.

As we were wrapping up the visit, we asked the couple if they knew of any other Jews in the area. “Well, as you know there aren’t many Jews here, but there is an elderly Jewish gentleman, Mr. Levy, who has been in the neighborhood forever,” Sam replied with some hesitation. “But he does not consider himself Jewish. He is not fond of Jews. . . so I would imagine he doesn’t want rabbis in his home.”

Sam’s warning echoed in our ears, but we decided to pay Mr. Levy a visit nonetheless. As followers of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneersohn, of righteous memory, who constantly emphasized that there is a G‑dly spark within every Jew that can never be extinguished, our mission is to tend to that spark until the soul is afire.

When we showed up, we were pleasantly surprised to be greeted warmly by Mr. Levy, who was comfortably ensconced in his recliner. He told us about his difficult childhood, and that as a result he had cut off all ties with Jews and Judaism for more than half a century. His aide, Anna, a sweet Christian woman, was sitting nearby, and whenever Mr. Levy stated that he is no longer Jewish, she would perk up and say, “Mr. Levy, of course you are, you can never leave the Jewish faith!” That got a smile from Mr. Levy every time.

We shmoozed with Mr. Levy for close to two hours. We were so glad to have found him, and paid the visit despite what we’d heard. It was apparent to us that as with everything in life, G‑d was guiding our steps. On our way out, we had a brazen idea. “Mr. Levy,” we asked, “may we please put a mezuzah on your front door?”

As you would expect, this rendered Mr. Levy speechless. But with our unlikely ally Anna backing us up, (and actually doing all the fighting for us!), he finally gave his consent.

We all gathered around outside, and affixed the mezuzah in its place of honor. What a perfect inaugural mitzvah for Mr. Levy—it is constant, encompasses the entire person, and strengthens one’s belief in G‑d.

We spent the other Shabbat among some 15,000 fellow campers in the Santa Fe National Park, in New Mexico, at the Rainbow Gathering.

This gathering has been taking place every year since 1972. The bulk of the attendees are hippies from all over the country, joining together to live the hippie dream of peace and love. It is completely normal for people to walk around here in a chemically altered state of mind.

Understandably, many of the people here are searching for more meaning in their lives and it is common to randomly engage strangers in philosophical or religious conversations. The people we met were open to talk and many of them approached us with questions.

Our goal was to camp out together with some other Jewish campers who had set up a Jewish camp a few days prior to our arrival. Finding our campsite was difficult. There were lots of cars and parking was scarce. We had to rely on the directions of random passersby, and each person we asked gave us conflicting directions. One guy suggested we walk forty-five minutes up the hill, make a left at the meadow, and follow the path down the hill and there we would see a man with long hair and he could give us the next set of directions. We listened. In all, we ended up schlepping 200 lbs of stuff (camping gear, kosher food, prayerbooks, etc.) approximately seven miles through dense forest, stopping to don tefillin and talk with people on the way.

Even before we arrived, we knew that it would be a special Shabbat. Everyone was warm and friendly. "Welcome home" and "lovin' ya" were the most common words we heard. We caught on pretty quickly and soon we were spreading the love and talking with everyone we met

We arrived at the camp site one hour before Shabbat with just enough time to set up our tent and briefly meet our fellow campers.

Shabbat was spent praying, learning, talking and of course feasting.

We met all types: Jews who knew that they were Jewish, Jews who did not think that they were Jewish, and non-Jews who thought that they were. Whenever we spoke, people would gather around and listen to the Chassidic thoughts and Torah teachings that we shared. We had to wait until noon on Shabbat day before we were able to begin since there was a "moment" of silence all morning (six hours to be precise) in honor of world peace. Once that was done, we were back in business, chatting up random strangers.

It is an incredible experience to be able to talk so deeply and honestly with people we never met before. The openness was incredible and the entire experience is something that we could have scarcely imagined back in Brooklyn.

Peace out!