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Authors: Jeffrey Archer
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exceptional,
but she also realized that such an offer could only have been secured by her
uncle’s reputation.
When Lubji was
first told the news of his scholarship, he tried not to show his dismay.
Although he was only allowed to go to the market in the afternoon, he was
already making enough money to have provided every member of the family with a
pair of shoes and two meals a day. He wanted to explain to his mother that
there was no point in being a rabbi if all you really wanted to do was to build
a shop on the vacant plot next to Mr. Lekski’s.
Mr. Lekski shut
the shop and took the day off to drive the young scholar to the academy, and on
the long journey to Ostrava he told him that he hoped he would take over his
shop once he had completed his studies. Lubji wanted to return home
immediately, and it was only after considerable persuasion that he picked up
his little leather bag-the last barter he had made the previous day-and passed
under the massive stone archway that led to the academy If Mr. Lekski hadn’t
added that he wouldn’t consider taking Lubji on unless he completed his five years
at the academy, he would have jumped back into the car.
It wasn’t long
before Lubji discovered that there were no other children at the academy who
had come from such a humble background as himself.
Several of his
classmates made it clear, directly or indirectly, that he was not the sort of
person they had expected to mix with. As the weeks passed, he also discovered
that the skills he had picked up as a market trader were of little use in such
an establishment-though even the most prejudiced could not deny that he had a
natural flair for languages. And certainly long hours, little sleep, and
rigorous discipline held no fears for the boy from Douski.
At the end of
his first year at Ostrava, Lubji finished in the upper half of his class in
most subjects. He was top in mathematics and third in Hungarian, which was now
his second language. But even the principal of the academy could not fail to
notice that the gifted child had few friends, and had become something of a
loner. He was relieved at least that no one bullied the young ruffian the only
boy who ever tried had ended up in the sanatorium.
When Lubji
returned to Douski, he was surprised to find how small the town was, just how
impoverished his family were, and how much they had grown to depend on him.
Every morning
after his father had left for the fields, Lubji would walk up the hill to the
rabbi’s house and continue his studies. The old scholar marveled at the boy’s
command of languages, and admitted that he was no longer able to keep up with
him in mathematics. In the afternoons Lubji returned to the market, and on a
good day he could bring home enough supplies to feed the entire family.
He tried to
teach his brothers how to trade, so that they could run the stall in the
mornings and while he was away. He quickly concluded it was a hopeless task,
and wished his mother would allow him to stay at home and build up a business
they could all benefit from. But Zelta showed no interest in what he got up to
at the market, and only questioned him about his studies. She read his report
cards again and again, and by the end of the holiday must have known them off
by heart. It made Lubji even more determined that when he presented her with
his next years’ reports, they would please her even more.
When his
six-week break came to an end, Lubji reluctantly packed his little leather bag
and was driven back to Ostrava by Mr. Lekski. “The offer to join me is still
open,” he reminded the young man, “but not until you’ve completed Your
studies.”
During Lubji’s
second year at the academy the name of Adolf Hitler came up in conversation
almost as often as that of Moses. Jews were fleeing across the border every day
reporting the horrors taking place in Germany, and Lubji could only wonder what
the Fuhrer might have planned next. He read every newspaper he could
but she also realized that such an offer could only have been secured by her
uncle’s reputation.
When Lubji was
first told the news of his scholarship, he tried not to show his dismay.
Although he was only allowed to go to the market in the afternoon, he was
already making enough money to have provided every member of the family with a
pair of shoes and two meals a day. He wanted to explain to his mother that
there was no point in being a rabbi if all you really wanted to do was to build
a shop on the vacant plot next to Mr. Lekski’s.
Mr. Lekski shut
the shop and took the day off to drive the young scholar to the academy, and on
the long journey to Ostrava he told him that he hoped he would take over his
shop once he had completed his studies. Lubji wanted to return home
immediately, and it was only after considerable persuasion that he picked up
his little leather bag-the last barter he had made the previous day-and passed
under the massive stone archway that led to the academy If Mr. Lekski hadn’t
added that he wouldn’t consider taking Lubji on unless he completed his five years
at the academy, he would have jumped back into the car.
It wasn’t long
before Lubji discovered that there were no other children at the academy who
had come from such a humble background as himself.
Several of his
classmates made it clear, directly or indirectly, that he was not the sort of
person they had expected to mix with. As the weeks passed, he also discovered
that the skills he had picked up as a market trader were of little use in such
an establishment-though even the most prejudiced could not deny that he had a
natural flair for languages. And certainly long hours, little sleep, and
rigorous discipline held no fears for the boy from Douski.
At the end of
his first year at Ostrava, Lubji finished in the upper half of his class in
most subjects. He was top in mathematics and third in Hungarian, which was now
his second language. But even the principal of the academy could not fail to
notice that the gifted child had few friends, and had become something of a
loner. He was relieved at least that no one bullied the young ruffian the only
boy who ever tried had ended up in the sanatorium.
When Lubji
returned to Douski, he was surprised to find how small the town was, just how
impoverished his family were, and how much they had grown to depend on him.
Every morning
after his father had left for the fields, Lubji would walk up the hill to the
rabbi’s house and continue his studies. The old scholar marveled at the boy’s
command of languages, and admitted that he was no longer able to keep up with
him in mathematics. In the afternoons Lubji returned to the market, and on a
good day he could bring home enough supplies to feed the entire family.
He tried to
teach his brothers how to trade, so that they could run the stall in the
mornings and while he was away. He quickly concluded it was a hopeless task,
and wished his mother would allow him to stay at home and build up a business
they could all benefit from. But Zelta showed no interest in what he got up to
at the market, and only questioned him about his studies. She read his report
cards again and again, and by the end of the holiday must have known them off
by heart. It made Lubji even more determined that when he presented her with
his next years’ reports, they would please her even more.
When his
six-week break came to an end, Lubji reluctantly packed his little leather bag
and was driven back to Ostrava by Mr. Lekski. “The offer to join me is still
open,” he reminded the young man, “but not until you’ve completed Your
studies.”
During Lubji’s
second year at the academy the name of Adolf Hitler came up in conversation
almost as often as that of Moses. Jews were fleeing across the border every day
reporting the horrors taking place in Germany, and Lubji could only wonder what
the Fuhrer might have planned next. He read every newspaper he could
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