that her success in trade resulted more from the economic situation than from her talent in that sphere. She lacked the knack to trade and the initiative to negotiate. Consequently, she decided to try her hand in a different field, doing pedicures and manicures. “Besides, I signed up for the course thinking not only about the present, but also about the future,” Mrs F. reveals. “Because I cannot believe that at my age [Mrs F. is 42 years old] you can find the courage to start your life anew. A revolution is still possible when you are 18 [tops]. I think that if we, women intellectuals, [. . .] will not turn out to be total cripples, or at least not spiritual cripples. I dream of emigration and I think the future of women my age is in practical occupations. To me the craftswoman is the woman of tomorrow.”
After the three-months’ course and three-months’ training period Mrs F. began to make money in her new occupation. But her earnings were too meager to satisfy all her needs, even though the price of food was still rather reasonable. She was quickly running out of savings. The growing gap in her budget began to give Mrs F. a hard time. She had to patch up [26] her budget. She began to look for a job that would accept her pre-war qualifications. As long as she lived with her friends on Mokotowska Street she often worked as a correspondent for Aryan firms. Even though temporary, this work was lucrative. She often managed to pose as an Aryan because she neither wore her band nor looked like a Jewess. But with the approach of November 1940 the Damoclean sword361 once again hovered over Mrs F. She was locked in the ghetto as per the German authorities’ ordinance. She took the risk and escaped from Łódź to avoid living in that prison. Oddly enough, Mrs F. welcomed the [establishment of] the Warsaw ghetto with desperate resignation. She was afraid to remain on the other side on forged documents.
In the ghetto Mrs F. tried her hand at trade again. Thanks to her contacts with friends she could smuggle dairy products, bread, and meat from the “other side.” She stood for hours at the mouth of the streets blocked with barbed-wire fencing, waiting for an opportunity to get to the other side. She often got on the tram at a stop in the ghetto and illegally crossed to other side without her armband. Every day Mrs F. went out in the morning and returned late, usually accompanied by one of her female friends. She could always come up with a pretext to return home or to smuggle merchandise.
