In 1992, I learned through my feminist network that the Chinese Medical Association was promoting a two-week trip to China in early 1993 for individuals concerned with women's health. It was to be the First International Conference on Women's Health, with stops in Beijing, Shanghai, Suzhou, and Xian. As a breast cancer survivor and a member of the Board of the American Cancer Society, D.C. chapter, I was anxious to attend. I, therefore, went to China as the representative of the American Cancer Society to learn about the diagnosis and treatment of breast cancer and other cancers there.

The group consisted of about 150 men and women from around the world. In addition to those from the United States and China, the roster included participants from places like England, Ecuador, Nigeria, Bangladesh, the Netherlands, Luxembourg, Tanzania, Indonesia, Ethiopia, Panama, Singapore, and New Guinea. I was one of two Jewish lawyers in the group; most of the other participants had significant backgrounds in the health fields, as doctors, midwives, nurses, professors, and other health professionals.

Toward the end of March 1993, shortly before my scheduled departure, I realized I'd be in China during Passover. On one of my calls to my contact at the Foundation for International Cooperation & Development, the organization in the U.S. that was planning the conference, I casually expressed my regret at missing a seder while we were away. "Not to worry," the staffer said. "We're planning to have a seder there." I couldn't understand how we could have a seder in China. How would people find the ingredients for a seder there?

The staffer assured me that it would come to pass. "Everyone will bring something from the United States," she explained. Then she asked me to bring cinnamon and walnuts for the kharoset.

In early April, when we arrived in Shanghai, there was much discussion as to where to hold the seder. The Chinese Medical Association kindly offered us one of the offices in their headquarters building, and it became the site.

Shortly before the seder, a number of the Jewish members of the group told me they would not be attending; they had more interesting things to do in Shanghai. On the other hand, a number of the Christian members asked me if they could attend; it would mean so much to them, they said, to be able to participate in a seder. We told them all would be welcome.

And so, on the night of April 5, 1993, nineteen members of the group came together for a seder in the offices of the Chinese Medical Association. There were ten Jewish women, one Jewish man, five Catholic women (including a Franciscan nun), two Chinese men (one of whom was the head of the Chinese Medical Association), and one Chinese woman. Somehow, we had all the necessary ingredients, and that night, we celebrated the exodus of the Jews from Egypt at a candlelight dinner in Shanghai. Our seder plate had kharoset, a roasted bone, a roasted egg in salt water, horseradish, and parsley. We drank Passover wine and ate matzos with gefilte fish. Our Chinese hosts brought baked chicken, cabbage, and rice. We did not have the heart to tell them that among Ashkenazic Jews rice was not appropriate for Passover.

We took turns reading from the Haggadah around the table in English and Hebrew, and we sang Hebrew and Yiddish songs. When the head of the Chinese Medical Association proudly read from the Haggadah, there wasn't a dry eye in the house. While I'm far from an expert on Jewish traditions, among the blind, the one-eyed woman is queen. So, I gave a brief explanation of the meaning of the holiday, the passages we read, and the songs we sang. None of us who was there will ever forget it.

After the service, as we left the building, I turned around and took one last look at the building where I had participated in such a meaningful service. To my amazement, I saw a Mogen Doved on the building.

"What is that?" I inquired of a member of the group who lived in Shanghai. That's the Star of David," she said. "This building used to be a synagogue."

Those who believe in psychic phenomena have written that there are no coincidences. The fact that our seder in Shanghai was held in a former synagogue was no coincidence. It was bashert.