The Knock That Changed a Life; and a Generation

Victor Frankl

In 1981, my wife Adela and I arrived in Vienna. We had come as emissaries of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, ready to serve the city’s Jewish community with Torah classes, programs for youth, and adult education.

Among Vienna’s residents was a name we all knew: Dr. Viktor Frankl, renowned psychiatrist, Holocaust survivor, and author of Man’s Search for Meaning.

But despite living in the city, he had never been involved with the Jewish community and had never stepped foot in our Chabad House.

So we were stunned when one day, after sending out a Jewish calendar ahead of the holidays, we received a donation from Dr. Frankl.

No note. No prior contact. Just a check.

Even more surprising; it wasn’t a one-time gift.

Year after year, his donation arrived like clockwork.

We never met. Never spoke. But his support continued, faithfully.

We didn’t know why.

Then in 1995, the answer knocked on our door; quite literally.

An energetic, elegant 85-year-old woman walked into our Chabad House.

“My name is Margarita Heias,” she introduced herself, smiling warmly.

“And I was the Rebbe’s first emissary to Vienna; long before you arrived.”

She explained: born in Czernowitz, raised in Vienna, trained as an opera singer. She narrowly escaped Europe with her husband and daughter just days before World War II broke out. They resettled in Detroit, but her entire extended family was murdered in the Holocaust.

In 1959, her daughter married a doctor, and the family was invited to a Chabad event. Before attending, Margarita went to meet the Rebbe in New York.

“I can’t explain it,” she told me, “but as soon as I entered the Rebbe’s room, I broke down crying. Like many Holocaust survivors, I had never cried before. I was always afraid that if I started crying, I’d never stop. But in that room, it felt safe.”

From that meeting on, a deep relationship was born. “He became a second father to me,” she said.

At one point, Margarita shared with the Rebbe that she wanted to return to visit her birthplace, Vienna. The Rebbe made a request:

“If you go, please deliver regards to Dr. Viktor Frankl, head of the neurology department in Vienna. And please give him this message:

He must be strong and continue his work with complete determination. He must not give up, no matter what. If he perseveres with strength and commitment, his success is assured.”

Margarita was surprised. Frankl was world-famous, but completely disconnected from the Jewish world. Still, she accepted the mission.

When she arrived in Vienna, she inquired at the hospital, but was told he had been absent for two weeks. Undeterred, she tracked down his home address and went straight there.

A woman answered the door. A large cross hung prominently on the wall; Viktor had remarried after the war to a devout Catholic, Eleonore. Margarita hesitated but asked if this was the residence of Professor Frankl.

A few minutes later, the professor himself appeared. He looked tired, distracted; not especially interested. Margarita nervously introduced herself and said:

“I was asked to deliver regards from Rabbi Schneerson of Brooklyn, New York.”

She continued:

“The Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Schneerson, sent you this message:

Be strong! Continue your work with complete determination. Do not give up. In the end, you will succeed.”

Suddenly, a shift.

His expression changed. His eyes filled with tears.

After a moment, he thanked her; and quietly confided: he had been planning to give up.

The pressure had become overwhelming.

You see, Frankl’s ideas were revolutionary; a direct challenge to the dominant psychological theories of his time.

While Freud and Adler taught that man is driven by pleasure or power, Frankl insisted otherwise:

That human beings are spiritual. That we live not to satisfy urges, but to find meaning. That even in Auschwitz, what kept people alive was the sense of purpose.

But at the time, his views were mocked. His lectures were boycotted. He felt completely alone.

He had just begun drafting immigration papers to join his sister in Australia and leave it all behind; until Margarita knocked on his door.

Her message; at that exact moment; reignited his resolve.

He stayed.

He persevered.

And the world was changed forever.

When she finished telling me this story, everything clicked.

Frankl’s anonymous donations to our Chabad House over the years now made sense.

They weren’t about money.

They were gratitude.

They were a quiet signal: I remember. I still care.

I decided to call Frankl myself. He was 90 years old by then, and not up to meeting in person, but we spoke briefly over the phone.

“Do you remember Margarita Heias?” I asked.

“Of course,” he replied warmly. “She became a family friend.”

“And the message she brought you; from the Rebbe?”

His voice softened.

“Oh yes… How could I ever forget?

The Rebbe reached out to me at a very dark time in my life.

I owe him a tremendous debt of gratitude.”

That moment; a message, delivered by one Jewish woman at the right time; changed the course of one man’s life.

That man went on to inspire millions, redefine modern psychology, and give language to the soul’s quiet cry for purpose.

Sometimes, all it takes…

is a knock at the door.

Inscribed First Edition of Frankl’s Masterpiece - A Rare Survivor’s Tribute