I am originally from Melbourne, Australia, and although I grew up going to a Jewish school with Jewish friends, the extent of my family’s observance was making Kiddush on Friday nights, attending Passover Seders, and going to shul for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.

In 2002, I was living in Oceanside, Calif., married to a non-Jewish woman. Around that time, Rabbi Boruch and Nechama Greenberg first moved to Oceanside as the Rebbe’s emissaries, to start a Chabad center. I was among their early supporters.

They organized Shabbat services once a month, and after participating several times and learning more about Judaism and the rules of Shabbat (when driving is not permitted), I started moving into their home for those Shabbats, since I lived quite a distance away.

Among the several other young men who participated in those minyanim was a marine named Ben who was stationed at Camp Pendleton. Over time, we grew very close.

On weeks when there was no minyan, Ben would stay over at my home and we would host large fun Friday night dinners with many Jewish and non-Jewish friends. The two of us were growing in our Judaism at the same pace, and through our shared experiences we developed a very strong and deep friendship.

Eventually Ben left the Marines and moved back to Philadelphia, and the last I heard from him was that he was planning a trip to Israel with Birthright.

By this time, my non-Jewish wife and I both realized that we were headed in separate directions and we went through a very amicable divorce. I very much wanted to start a Jewish family but finding a match proved to be very difficult. I knew that I wanted to live a Torah-observant lifestyle but I was not yet on that level in my personal observance.

I was at a crossroads, with one foot in my new Jewish observance and the other foot still firmly set in my old lifestyle. I was far from my family in Australia, and my best friend had just moved away. My family was not very happy with my sudden interest in religion, and the rest of my friends in Oceanside, although they were supportive, really had no way of relating to my situation. I felt isolated, vulnerable, and emotionally distraught. I desperately needed some guidance, so I decided to go to the Rebbe’s resting place.

I took a red-eye flight from John Wayne Airport in Long Beach, Calif., to New York City, landed at JFK Airport very early in the morning and hailed a taxi straight to the Ohel. After going to the mikvah and praying the morning Shacharit service, I sat down to write my letter to the Rebbe. I poured out my heart, detailing my situation and asking for clarity and blessings. I expressed myself in these words: “Rebbe, I need a hug.” I needed someone to support me and give me the feeling that they’ve got my back.

It was a cold, winter morning, and the Ohel was practically empty when I arrived. But as I stood there engrossed in saying Psalms, many more people started arriving and shuffling past me. At some point, someone stood right next to me but I paid no attention to him as I was very focused on my prayers. All of a sudden I was startled to overhear the person next to me mentioning my Hebrew name, “Gaby ben Leah.”

I looked up and was astonished to see that my good friend Ben was standing right next to me! He had just returned from his Birthright trip, landing at JFK around 45 minutes after I had, and he too had come straight to the Ohel. We were both unaware of each other’s plans and yet there we were, standing side by side, without realizing it. When Ben mentioned my Hebrew name, he was praying for my wellbeing; he had no idea that he was standing right next to me!

“Ben!” I exclaimed. “Gaby!” he said, equally astonished and we embraced each other with great excitement.

Aware that we were standing in the Ohel, we quickly quieted down and continued with our respective prayers, but at that moment I felt that the Rebbe had sent me the hug I so desperately needed.

Ben and I spent the morning together in Crown Heights catching up on the past few months. I purchased a pair of tzitzit since that was the resolution I had made at the Ohel.

Needless to say, that morning I received the clarity and support I needed to make the proper decisions that would set my life on the course I wanted to follow. Today I am, thank G‑d, married and raising a Torah-observant Chabad family, all thanks to the Rebbe’s blessings.

Although I never met the Rebbe before his passing, experiencing what felt to me like a clear response in such a powerful and surreal way allowed me to develop the deeply personal relationship I have with the Rebbe today.