At a Chabad menorah lighting on a chilly London evening, our hearts were close to Sydney

Glo sticks lit the freezing air as dusk gave way to night.

A multi-coloured inflatable menorah embodied the sense of fun.

That’s not to pretend the crowd was entirely free of anxiety.

How could we be, our minds still reeling with the shock of knowing that Jews in Australia had been murdered by terrorists driven by pure antisemitic hate?

Little more than two months after the Heaton Park attack on Yom Kippur, must the worldwide kehila now consider the intifada well and truly globalised?

A little away from the crowd, still within the enclosed space of Islington Green – a tiny patch of grass on the main strip in one of the capital’s most fashionable areas – there was a Remembrance war memorial, much like hundreds across Britain.

Inscribed in stone before the commemorative sculpture were the words: ‘In memory of the fallen.’

The dead in Sydney, just like those in Manchester, must never, will never, be forgotten.

Yet at this moment, as Chanukah began, Jews and their friends celebrated our festival of light.

Eylon, a middle-aged Israeli man, was in London just for one day, seeing his daughter Alicia who lives here while in transit before flying back home.

He hadn’t planned to go to the Chabad event originally but after the news from Sydney he decided he had to.

“We can’t be afraid, we can’t let fear win,” he said. Alicia agreed: “I’m not sure I feel comfortable here or anywhere right now but what can you do?”

The collar of her coat turned up against the cold, twenty-something Eva was taking her non-Jewish boyfriend Josh to his first Chanukah. “Do I feel a little scared? I don’t know. I’m glad I’m here.”

Young father Avi had moved to London from the north of Israel – the Hezbollah front line – three years ago and was with his daughter Maya as she celebrated her second Chanukah.

Was he worried? “Do you think I’d be here with her if I was?

“I grew up with attacks. You have to understand and be rational. It’s extremely unlikely to happen to you. I feel safe.”

Up on stage, dignitaries offered their words. Local Labour MP Emily Thornberry shared her concern over antisemitism. Islington Mayor Jason Jackson spoke with affection for the Jewish community.

Then Chabad Islington’s Rabbi Mendy Korer rallied the crowd with electric energy.

He sang Chanukah prayers, and those of us who could remember the words sang with him.

Warning us he couldn’t dance, he leapt into action and bounced along to a high-energy beat, and we too danced along.

One couple whirled around, hand in hand.

Rabbi Korer’s infectious good humour was irresistible. Our hearts were broken for Sydney, yet here and at every menorah lighting we would celebrate Chanukah just as we have for thousands of years.