Crushed for the light. There are lives that are lessons. The late Henry Nobles was one.

He was born in Vienna in 1932. His father had come there in the 1920s to escape the rising tide of anti-Semitism in Poland.

But like Jacob fleeing from Esau to Labibon, he found that he had fled

one danger, only to arrive at another. After the Anschluss and Kristallmacht, it became clear that

if the family were to survive, they had to leave. They arrived in Britain in 1939, just weeks before their fate

would have been sealed had they stayed. Henry grew up in Nottingham in the Midlands. There he

studied textiles and after his army service went to work for one of the great British companies,

eventually starting his own highly successful textile business. He was a passionate believing Jew and loved everything about

Judaism. He and his wife Renata were a model couple active in synagogue life, always inviting guests to their home for Shabbat or the festivals.

I came to know Henry because he believed in giving back to the community,

not only in money but also in time and energy and leadership.

He became the chairperson of many Jewish organizations, including the

National Israel UJIA Appeal, British Friends of Barrelan University, the Jewish Marriage Council,

the British Israel Chamber of Commerce, and the Western Marmalarge Synagogue. He loved learning and teaching Torah.

He was a fine raconteur with an endless supply of jokes

and regularly used his humor to bring laughter therapy

to cancer patients, Holocaust survivors, and the residents of Jewish care homes.

Blessed with three children and many grandchildren, he had retired

and was looking forward with Renata to a serene last chapter in a long and good life.

Then seven years ago, he came back from morning service in the synagogue to find

that Renata had suffered a devastating stroke. For a while, her life hung in the balance. She

survived. But their whole life now had to change. They gave up their magnificent apartment in the centre of town

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