Page 45 - LEIBY

Chapter 5 45

erupted in a round of applause. In Stalinist Russia, identifying
with the Jews was a true act of daring bravery.

The convention went on, and Leiby fell asleep, the sleeping
Yosef ’s head now resting on his knees.

“Children, what are you doing here?” A stern voice woke them
both up. They blinked and stared up at the older man standing
before them. The hall had emptied out, and for a moment both
of them forgot where they were and why they had come there.

“We came to hear stories,” Leiby said eventually. “And who are
you?”

“My name is Michael Steinberg, head of the local Jewish
committee,” the man replied. “You came to hear stories?” He
sighed. “The stories told here don’t have a happy ending, and
they are certainly unsuitable for children’s ears. Do you have a
place to stay?”

“Yes, we live in Lida, we only came here for the convention.”

“But the convention is over, everyone else has left.”

Yosef was shocked. “What? Everyone has left?” he called,
distraught. “But we came to find soldiers who would agree to
help me find my sister!”

“Come with me.”

They left the hall and followed the man to a crowded courtyard,
where many Jewish refugees were assembled. In one corner was
a group of men in heated discussion as to the best place to
emigrate to. Opposite them, women washed laundry in large
aluminum pails, and in the far corner Leiby spied a man playing
a mournful melody on a harmonica.

“This place looks like a gypsy camp site,” Michael sighed and
surveyed the refugees that filled the place with a deafening
tumult. “We don’t have enough places to house everyone.”

They entered the office and Michael sat down at the large desk,
the Red Army flag standing proudly behind him.