Back in the 'seventies, distraught parents often placed long-distance phone calls to Rabbi Chaim Yitzchak Drizin, the Shliach in Berkeley, California. They sought help in communicating with their children who had joined cults and communes, or who were drifting about on the permissive West Coast shores.
So he was not fazed when a worried father, Mr. Friedman, called from New York to ask for help in contacting his daughter, Adina.
"She's a lovely girl, a student at Columbia," Mr. Friedman's words tumbled out in confusion. "They're in Immigrant Gap, California now.... Our family tries to keep Shabbos... but her black boyfriend is a missionary Christian.... Tomorrow night, he's taking her to Hawaii to convert her to Christianity. I think she's only doing it to please him. Please help."
Rabbi Drizin promised that he would do what he could. However, it was Friday. He wasn't even sure that he could find Immigrant Gap.
"I hesitated," recalled Rabbi Drizin. "I had heard the town's name before and I believed that it was somewhere near Sacramento. But I had no address, I didn't want to run late shortly before Shabbos. Could I really influence a stranger and bring about a change on such a critical issue on one short visit?"
"Yet, I was prompted to go. I planned what I thought was enough time to get there and back, left another two hours for discussion, and an hour to get ready for Shabbos. Instinctively, I hurried over to the Chabad House to pick up my tallis. I brushed by a poster announcing our Saturday night program, and again reminded myself that I must be home for Shabbos.
"After setting out on my journey, I realized that I had miscalculated. Immigrant Gap was further than I thought, but I had already traveled so far that I could not turn back. I arrived at five thirty, only a few hours before sunset. The residents of the tiny village could not direct me to the person I described. Realizing that I would have to stay here over Shabbos, I notified my family and then bought some kosher food. Finally, after an intense search, I located the people in a cottage atop a hill on the outskirts of town.
"It was just a few minutes before Shabbos when I knocked on the door. The owners, a devout Christian family, invited me in, and I saw their guests - the man and woman in the dining room - Adina and her friend. I introduced myself and told Adina the purpose of my visit. She showed no interest and left the room. Her missionary companion, in contrast, was more friendly. Perhaps he thought I would be an interesting challenge.
"I asked the houseowners if I could spend the night and the next day. They cordially offered me a spacious room.
"That Shabbos was quite an experience. Most of the day was spent in intense conversation. I often regretted being pitted against Adina, whose responses alternated between indifference and hostility. Instead of speaking to her directly, I spent most of the time speaking to her friend, trying to impress both of them with one concept: Before Adina should consider adopting a different religion, she should know more about her own.
"Late Saturday night, shortly before their scheduled flight to Hawaii, Adina surprised me by agreeing to attend a course on Judaism. I immediately placed two phone calls: one to Bais Chanah - a Lubavitch institute for girls in Minnesota - and the other to an airline ticket office. Early Sunday morning, I drove Adina to the airport in Sacramento.
"On the road, Adina broke the tense silence between us: 'I assure you, Rabbi, that you have no idea why I decided to accompany you. Not only that, but I'm sure that you have no idea what you are doing here in the first place!'
"Her outburst caught me unprepared. I had naively concluded that my extensive persuasion had finally borne fruit.
" 'You see,' she continued, 'fifteen years ago, when I was growing up in New York, my father and I visited the Lubavitcher Rebbe. I did not
understand what was being said at that meeting, but over the years, my father explained it to me.
" 'While the Rebbe was granting us blessings, he stopped and said to my father: 'A day will come when you will need assistance with this child - contact us and we will help.'
" 'Initially, I was not impressed when you introduced yourself on Friday as an emissary of the Lubavitcher Rebbe. Then, on Saturday, the profound prophecy of those words struck me. Nothing you said convinced me to change my plans. I still want to go to Hawaii, but I cannot disregard those far-sighted words of your Rebbe. I decided to go only out of respect for his profound vision.'
Today, Adina is the mother of a lovely, observant family in Jerusalem.
From 'To know and to care' Volume 1 Page 90 (c) by Sichos in English