[61] She is young, around 30. She graduated from the Librarians’ Training College at Wolna Wszechnica383 and worked in the Department of Public Libraries for several years.
After the outbreak of the war Mrs B. walked to work in a hail of bullets every day. She held her position until the end of December 1939, that is, until the German authorities’ ordinance forbidding Jews to work in Aryan enterprises. She was one of just a few Jewesses working in the Public Libraries, but she had never been treated differently on account of her origin. The director and her colleagues had always been kind and loyal to her and this did not change after her dismissal.
In January 1940 Mrs B. got a job in the clothing section of the Coordinating Commission. At that time the largest wave of refugees was streaming into Warsaw and the issue of collecting and distributing clothes among the homeless refugees became one of the most burning issues [. . .]. Mrs B. treated her new job as seriously as only a woman can [. . .] she devoted a lot of time and thought to it. Her creativity and talent for keeping her bearings found an outlet in various projects aimed at improving the clothing distribution system and making avail of all possible donations.
But she could still hear the voice of her calling, telling her to step onto the path of her intended occupation. Mrs B. dreamed about a children’s library. During the clothing collection campaigns many people donated not only clothes, but also books and toys. [62] It was then that Mrs B. first thought about organising a reading room for children. It was a brave thought at that time as there were no prospects for the plan to become reality. For all Jewish schools and libraries were being shut down by order of the German authorities. But a person having a true calling never loses faith, no matter what. And Mrs B. unwaveringly believed that ultimately she would achieve her goal. In the meantime, she continued to collect children’s books and toys with an idealist’s devotion. She then hid them in suitcases in Centos’ clothing storeroom. When she was not busy at the office she went there, looked over the books, and sorted them—she hid away those she thought [. . .] library and
