The story of Gizela - Afik Shiraz. Abinun Shmuel

in 1923 and not in 1926, by the name of Papo and not Cabillio, as her mother's second husband adopted her when she was four. During the years they said, "You have a cousin in Israel – children of a brother and a sister" however she refused to be contacted and said, "I don't want to know. My dad didn't want to know me and I didn't want to know the family". Though I consider every relative as a valuable treasure, I had at one point to give up. Only after her mother passed away did Flory learn who her father was and why her mother did leave him, and she said, "And here, today, too I'm a singer. I'm leaving the kids too, leaving everything and going to perform". She later sent me a letter from America asking if I had a picture of her father, and I sent her a picture of the uncle with his second wife Paula and their daughter Katica. To this day, I do not know what happened to them, but I have feeling they stayed alive. I already mentioned that my father owned a store he initially ran with his brother and later alone. It was a kind of general store used to sell various items, from needles to red salt. The red salt is for animals, and being much cheaper than the white salt, the color was used to differentiate between the two. I loved visiting my father in the store. Every day upon completion I would go to school and spend hours with his companion, preparing lessons and watching the various customers who came into the store. I spent there more time than at home. That was the case until the fourth grade. Then I started attending a girls' school, and the visits to my father's store stopped. I didn’t like the new school. I learned to knit socks, gloves, all kinds of embroidery, but my favorite lesson was and still remained was history, and to this day I remember dates well. In math and geometry, on the other hand, I was pretty weak. I managed somehow to perform add-subtract exercises, but I do not know to use percentages to this day. In 1939 a new secondary school was built. My first studying year at this school began in late November, and during that time we learned French, while the second year ended in March, and during that time we learned German, so it turned out that I could not learn much. Another language, which I gained a certain understanding of, was Ladino thanks to my grandmother, Justina Altarac, who did not know Serbian and used to speak Spanish. My mother used to say that "The number of languages you know is the number of times you are a human being”, meaning that every language is used as a hatch to a new and different world, and indeed, my sister learned new languages as sponge, and my father mastered impressive language control in many languages, and learned the language of the place in every area he stayed. The Spanish and the German were fluent in the mouths of both my parents. The German used them whenever they wanted us not to understand what they were saying, but when they approached us at Spanish, my sister and I respond to them in Serbian. Like Cila , I also inherited my father's language skills to some extent at least, and now I know multiple languages while some "run away" from my head while the German language is the only one I make efforts to forget. Although I was an introvert, I had several friends in town; A Muslim neighbor, Susanna, a Russian friend whose father was a Tsarist and escaped in World-War-I after the Bolshevik revolution, accompanied the army who moved to Yugoslavia and fled, Perla Ovadia, the daughter of the Jewish doctor and Desa, who was Serbian. With these three friends the

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