My father went to a Jewish high school. Its building has survived to this day. It is located across from the Alivaria brewery. I don’t know how the school was called. My father loved languages. He studied French with a French woman, and he spoke it very well. He studied Polish a bit more, because my mother was Polish. My grandmother was against their marriage. …She tried to “save” my mother from her love for my father, sending her twice to Moscow to her sister, Aunt Stasja. And she would go to my father’s parents.

My grandfather would tell her: “Don’t talk to me about this, but to your daughter.” My parents were an interesting couple. A friend told me that my mother worked in a store and drew beautifully. My father would come to see her there, when they were courting. And when they would go out, everybody admired this couple.