What If I Had Stayed Silent?

My parents were desperate for a miracle.

For three years, they had tried to have a child, but nothing worked. Urged by their rabbi, they booked the expensive flight from Paris to New York to visit the Rebbe for a blessing.

It was a Sunday—the day the Rebbe would spend hours giving out dollar bills to every single visitor. Each dollar was for charity, but it was also a personal moment, filled with meaning. He never tired. He never rushed. Every person who passed by was like a diamond in his eyes.

When it was my parents' turn, the Rebbe gave them six dollars. He said it wasn’t just for them—it was for all the Jewish people of France.

That stood out. Six dollars? For all of France? What did that mean?

A year later, my mom gave birth to twin girls. Eleven years after that, she gave birth to another set of twins—my sister and me.

Two sets of twins. Four children. Four extra dollars.

I grew up knowing that story. And because of it, I always felt like I had a purpose—like I was here for a reason.

That purpose started to become clearer in 9th grade, when I went to my first CTeen International Shabbaton in New York with CTeen S. Maur. Hearing the stories of teen leaders from around the world made something click inside me. I wanted to do something. I wanted to lead. I asked my CTeen director, “Why don’t we have leadership roles in CTeen France?”

She encouraged me to ask Rabbi Mendy and Haya Mottal, the directors of CTeen France.

That summer, walking through the Marais—the old Jewish quarter of Paris—I saw them. My heart jumped. This was my moment! But before I could build up the courage to say something, they disappeared into the crowd. I couldn’t believe I’d missed my chance.

I turned to Hashem and said, “Je ne m’en irai pas. Si je dois leur parler, aide-moi et remet-les moi sur mon chemin.” “I’m not moving from this spot. If I’m meant to speak with them, bring them back to me.”

Twenty minutes later, I saw them again. This time, I didn’t hesitate.

That September, CTeen France launched its first leadership team—with five teens. And from there, everything changed.

CTeen France grew in numbers, energy, and heart. The leadership structure brought a new sense of purpose and pride to our chapters. And for me personally, it was a turning point. Every time I felt small, unsure, or intimidated, I would look at a photo of my parents receiving those dollars from the Rebbe.

It reminded me that I’m not random. None of us are. Hashem handpicked each of us to be here, now. He’s counting on us.

Today, CTeen France has over twenty teen leaders. I’m twenty years old. I divide my time between studying law, teaching at the local high school, and helping my dad with his communications business. But the work I’m most passionate about is running the CTeen France leadership network.

Sometimes I look at everything that’s happened and wonder: What if I had been too scared to speak up? What if I hadn’t taken that chance?

How different would Jewish teen life in France look right now?

I’m grateful I asked the question. I’m even more grateful I got to be part of the answer.