A few days ago, I was walking through the Delta terminal at JFK, returning from a much needed break with my family. As we walked through the interminably long series of gates, I kept noticing at most of these gates there were one or more Chabad shluchim (emissaries) waiting for flights to far off places across the country and the globe. Then I recalled that this past weekend, Chabad had convened its annual Kinus Hashluchim, its conference for all of its emissaries worldwide.

Having spent several days, and an inspiring shabbat, with their peers and families, they were once again spreading out across the world, returning to sometimes tiny outposts and sometimes surprisingly large ones in places like Wyoming, Utah, and Baja, as well as countries like Ghana, Nepal and, even with recent tragedy, Abu Dhabi.

I don’t have to share all of the practices, philosophy, or customs of Chabad to know that the dedication of the Rabbis, Rebbetzins, and their families to Am Yisrael, and to loving each and every Jew, is as legendary as it is exemplary.

I benefited from this unconditional love decades ago when I was in a far off, small community for work for three months with no access to a shabbat meal or the blessings of home beyond the open doors of the local young Chabad couple. Years later I had the privilege of working for the largest campus Chabad operation in the country, and I learned much there about valuing every Jew.

And for every experience of mine, I can share a half dozen from friends, colleagues, and acquaintances around the world. A demonstration of love for your fellow Jew leaves an impression and lights a lamp (I’m purposely using a Chabad expression) for others to follow.

A shaliach at almost every gate. I noticed it, as did my wife. Sitting, or chatting with another passenger. Learning quietly, or making a difference in the life of a fellow Jew.

What do I conclude? The Jewish people need a shaliach at every gate. A shaliach of sisterhood and brotherhood. A shaliach of morality and clarity. A shaliach of strength and resilience. A shaliach of courage, staring death in the face and blessing the Almighty for the opportunity to do mitzvot up to the last moment.

If it's not Chabad at every gate, it should be each and every one of us, following their example and that of others, like Rabbi Avi Weiss who refuses to shake a hand on shabbat but instead insists on a huge smile and a warm hug; or Rabbi Angela Buchdahl who answers phone calls from literally all over the world at all hours of the day and night.

We can all be lamplighters, upstanders, and hand holders. We can all be emissaries to our people. We can be there for each other. At every gate.