This Sunday evening, I’m scheduled to go to Far Rockaway to speak at the annual dinner of Yeshiva Darchei Torah, a large Orthodox boys school I first visited more than three years ago.

The circumstances of this visit could not be more different.

When I first went to the yeshiva in 2012, it was because Hurricane Sandy had devastated the area.

To provide some context: I was not yet working at UJA, but served as chair of our Commission on Jewish Identity and Renewal. And a group of us went shortly after the storm to assess the needs of schools, synagogues, and other relief organizations throughout the affected region.

We met with leaders of about a dozen area institutions — and I remember sitting in our coats because there was no heat. We asked the group: What do you need? How can we help you?

The school leaders mentioned three areas of principal concern: 1) students whose families were hurt by the storm and would no longer be able to pay tuition; 2) teachers who required assistance; and 3) school facilities that had been severely damaged.

Within days, we came back to hand-deliver checks to those schools, including Darchei Torah, part of the $16.9 million we made available in the wake of Hurricane Sandy to network agencies, local synagogues, and dozens of yeshivot and day schools.

The story might well have ended there. But it did not. In a beautiful gesture of hakarat hatov — deep appreciation for what we had done for Darchei Torah in a very difficult period — the parents of the school came to us with a message: You were there for us, and now we want to help you be there for others.

In total, almost 700 Darchei Torah families made gifts to UJA — most for the very first time. And their leadership came to our offices in Manhattan to deliver the checks in person.

It was an emotional experience, and powerful proof that we can bridge divides across our community and come together to address collective needs.

So, on Sunday I’m going back to Far Rockaway to thank the parents of Darchei Torah for exemplifying what UJA is all about — a place that brings us all together, in times of crisis and every day, to take on challenges that no one should face alone.

And I’ll be delivering that message in person.

Shabbat shalom