Counting down to dreidel-spinning time and Chanukah, a festival where the four Hebrew letters found on a spinning top represent a key holiday concept about miracles, I wondered how meaningful that message would be if you couldn't read Hebrew.

The Hebrew letters found on the dreidel: Nun, gimel, hey, shin stand for the words "Nes Gadol Hayah Sham," "a great miracle happened there," referring to the miracle of the oil. But what if you couldn't even read the letters on the dreidel? Wouldn't you feel left out of the game? I wondered if any miracles were happening out there with Hebrew education, especially for adults.

Spinning around in my memory, I remembered my friend Michael, a fifty-something who up until two months ago, with no knowledge of Hebrew would have "failed" dreidel.

Michael has been studying Hebrew hard now for six weeks, dutifully attending a night class at a local university one evening a week for a 2.5 hour lesson. I called him recently to find out how he was doing.

"I'm fourth in the class," he said, and then reminded me that the class only has four students. "But I'm catching on, at first everything looked like Chinese," he said.

Michael thought he had enrolled in a beginning Hebrew class. However at the first class he soon realized that the other students had "begun" before, apparently coming to class with at least some Hebrew knowledge.

"I really was a beginner. I didn't know an alef from a beit, everyone else seemed so far ahead," he said.

For many American Jews, Hebrew continues to stand as an effective barrier to their deeper participation in Jewish prayer, learning, and connection with Israel. Though adult education programs are offered through each denomination, and different commercial systems of Hebrew are readily available online, such as total immersion, one-on-one tutoring, and classes that focus just on Hebrew prayers, Hebrew education for adults remains a tough sell.

It remains mostly a system of synagogue, college, and institutional night classes that especially for the unaffiliated is hard to crack.

Also blocking our entry to Hebrew 1 is the embarrassment that we never learned, or the guilt about what we once knew and have now forgotten; there's dunderheadedness with languages to contend with, a lack of family history with Hebrew, and "I just don't care."

And of course instead of learning to read Hebrew, there's always that old stand in, "trenzleeturayshuns."

Additionally, as we age, it seems to me that it becomes harder to simply confront what we don't know. Face it, for most us; going to back to school for anything beyond age fifty is tough.

Since Michael had taken that first rare step, I was curious about his progress.

"I'm just not good at languages though I am now able to recognize most of the letters. It's really hard," he admitted. "But the teacher is really nice, and the other students have been helpful. Quitting isn't really an option," he added quickly.

"I am doing this because of my son," he said, referring to the youngest Hebrew student in his household who I knew next year was going to have a bar mitzvah. "I think he will appreciate it. Growing up, I had no Hebrew background. I want to be able to participate," he added.

Speaking of the class curriculum he noted that, "First we learned cursive writing, a kaf looks like a backwards 'C,' and a mem sort of looks like an 'N'," he explained.

Correct for both; it looked like the beginner had made some progress.

"Reading has been the hardest part," he said though admitting later he now knew the difference between a "talmid,"and "talmidah," a male and female student, an important distinction in any educational setting.

"It's been rough, I wonder how many students drop out, out of frustration," he added, telling me about his finished and not-so-finished homework assignments.

"The teacher has offered to come in and spend time with me if I continue. Also I probably could study more. Flash cards might help," he offered, seeming more determined than ever.

A few days later Michael came over for a piece of pie, and brought his Hebrew books along with him. He carefully and deliberately read a few pages of simple Hebrew syllables, taking a break after sounding out the word, "Shabbat."

And as for the dreidel? It seems sometimes the letters spin right off, and the miracle happens right here.