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92 First Name: Lillian Also Known As: Liliane Opdebeeck and then Thoraschreiber Last Name: Zoloto Maiden Name: Schreiber Date of Birth: February 17, 1938 City of Birth: Brussels Country of Birth: Belgium A Child Remembers Lillian Schreiber Zoloto Early September 1942—Saint-Gilles, Brussels I am four years old and I love my mother’s hats. I parade around the apartment wearing different colored hats with veils, plumes, and feathers. My mother tells me I look very pretty. One day she tells me I have to go sleep at Lisa and Karl’s apartment and she bribes me, that day and every day after that, by letting me wear one of her hats out in the street as I leave with Lisa for the night. Lisa is my governess, and my parents trust Lisa and her husband, Karl. As a protest to the Nazi regime and its failing economy, they have left their home in Germany and settled in Brussels. At Lisa and Karl’s I sleep on a cot in the dining room, a very large room with tall windows. Through the sheer curtains, tree shadows sway and dance on the walls and ceiling of the room while Karl snores loudly in the next bedroom. The trees move and make shapes of monsters on the walls. Are they making sounds or is it Karl? I hide under the blankets, wishing for my mother and my bed. All the hats my mother gave me remain at Lisa’s apartment. Later in the war, when my parents are in hiding, they entrust their possessions for safekeeping to Lisa and Karl. They learn at the end of the war that everything was sold on the black market. When my mother runs out of hats and bribes for me, my fear of those frightening evenings at Lisa’s apartment emboldens me. I confront her, “Do you not love me? I want to stay with you always. Why do you send me away at night?” Hidden with Rescuers 93 Stunned, my mother gathers me in her arms and holds me tight. “Ketzele, my little kitten, I love you very much and I want us to be together all the time, but you must listen to what I tell you. There is a bad man, Hitler, who does not like people like us, and he may be very mean to us. I need to protect you because you are little. So, go with Lisa and be a good girl.” The explanation may not be clear, but the danger and fear become real. I become quiet and obedient. Late September 1942—Anderlecht, Brussels Otto, an underground Resistance friend of Karl’s, carries my black patent valise and holds my hand as he accompanies me, first by streetcar and then on foot, to the home in Anderlecht of Jean Opdebeeck, another underground Resistance fighter. The building we enter is tall with a long, dark corridor from which we finally emerge into a courtyard with a garden patch at the end. Two smiling women, standing under an awning near a painted wooden cupboard with many drawers, fawn over me as I stand bewildered, wondering which one is the mommy of this place. One woman seems older, and I keep staring at them as they engage me. “Liliane,” says the younger woman, “my little girl Christiane will soon return from her walk with her doll carriage and you can play with her.” As soon as Christiane returns, she and I immediately begin to play with her many dolls while Otto arranges my stay with Josine Opdebeeck. The following morning, the Opdebeecks tell me that I am to call them Oncle Jean and Tante Josine, as they plan to tell the neighbors that I am the child of a sick relative, and I have come to live with them. As a blond, blue-eyed child, I fit in perfectly with the family. I am also told that we are never to speak of my parents because it would be dangerous for them and for us. All of these precautions are necessary as the Opdebeecks do not know who can be trusted. With these new instructions and associated fears, I refuse to speak with anyone other than family members until many weeks later when I begin to feel more secure in my environment. October 1942—Anderlecht, Brussels My bedroom is very small and so is the window that is high above a dresser against the wall facing the courtyard. There is...

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