Our Friends from Florence

From Yoshko’s Memoirs

In the city of Florence was preserved the good tradition of the Zionist youth in Italy. Perhaps it is the only place in the whole country in which exists an active group of Jewish youth. Two or three tens (twenty or thirty) of educated young people meet from time to time and on their way of life and their achievement from the movement of the spirit that was characteristic of Zionist youth in Central Europe before the rise of the Nazis. Those in Florence are yearning for the ideas of Martin Buber. Mathilda Cassin stands at the head of the group and casts into it Zionist content. The group excels in purity of character, in sincere thought, in devotion and in enthusiasm. Mathilda, who also was gifted with a pleasant voice, brings to them the songs of the Land (Israel).

Raffaele Cantoni, a socialist and revolutionary and a rebel, an anti-fascist and a believer in the God of Israel who guides the fate of his people, he is the spiritual father of the group. With Israel is destined to renew his mission among the nations and the words of the prophets will be fulfilled and all this — when socialism will be realized in the Land of the Ancestors. The man believes in a strong Jewish state that will arise and in socialism that will bloom in it. I become friends with him and also with Mathilda. He visits Villa Emma and I stay in his house that stands opposite “Palazzo Vecchio” that is in Florence. My visits in Florence they are in contradiction to the instructions of the law. Raffaele carries the flag of the socialist-messianic idea in Eretz-Israel and Mathilda is his student.

The youth group of Florence and our society tied between them strong ties. The difference between them is great. Ours are typical refugee youth. Lacking serenity, bitter, loaded with fatigue from the dust of the roads. The ideals and the dreams are intertwined with money and with wealth.

Our friends from Florence reveal toward us feelings of sincere and true brotherhood. Their many letters to Villa Emma urge to respond and to strengthen the ties. They write on the brotherhood of brothers, on readiness for closeness for the sake of their friends in Nonantola, without a trace of a scent of philanthropy. The youths from Florence see in us brothers in truth and in integrity.

Thus Florence became in our eyes a symbol of pioneering, alongside the office of “The World Pioneer” in Geneva and the other friends with whom I stood in ties of letters.

From Sonja’s Diary

Monday, December 21, 1942A lot has happened this week. First of all, my Patron from Florence came here. She’s a young lady, about 20 years old, and she’s engaged. I really like her because I can relate to people like her. You could tell she wants to live a life dedicated to hachshara. She came here with Grossa to spend an evening with us. She sang us songs and told us that she has 60 young people under her care who write articles. Whenever she looked at me, she smiled, and it felt so nice. I was really happy. When she left, it felt like a dream. Before she departed, she promised to write to me as soon as she arrived back, and she didn’t forget! Yesterday morning, I received a letter from an eighteen-year-old girl. She’s probably one of Mathilda’s youths, and she wrote to me saying that Mathilda told her I’m an intelligent and good girl. She wants me to tell her about my life. Her name is Angiolina Aronson. I’ll try to write her a letter in Italian. Hopefully, I can do it. Just now, we had embroidery class. The girls had to embroider linen handkerchiefs. I regularly receive letters from my beloved Mutti, which is one of my greatest joys. I really like Salli. Whenever I talk to him, I blush and get all flustered.

From Yoshko’s Memoirs (Winter, 1943)

A fresh breeze from Florence The days flowed and added up to many months. The daily innovations were gray and devoid of importance. One day the “guys” from Florence arrived riding bicycles, and Matilda with them. They came to identify with our fate. “We feel with all our hearts that you are our brothers and sisters. You suffered as Jews and compared to you we live well, nothing is lacking and everything is within reach. Shame covers our faces. We are sorry there is no equality between us. But we will not surrender in our efforts and we will yet build the land of the ancestors together with you. Our whole desire is that you believe us, that we love you and this friendship is dear to us.”

Thus one of the group spoke. One of ours whispered in my ear: “The joyful thing is that our friends from Florence come to us as equals to equals. They do not pity and see us as brothers. Not philanthropists. This is the most beautiful thing that happened to us.” And indeed, for our older boys this was a wonderful experience that illustrated the equality between human beings and proved with a living example true friendship.

The girls from Berlin were slightly reserved about the offered friendship, with the excuse of linguistic strangeness. There was no truth in that. There were other motives. It was happy in the house and ties of friendship deepened but there were ties that loosened and were destroyed. And these were at the center of the Berliners’ concerns. We sang and told stories. The boys told of the partisans’ exploits in Lesno Brdo and the girls from Florence saw the boys sitting opposite them as the heroes themselves in all their glory. The visit lasted a few hours. From Matilda’s mouth I heard about the arguments they conduct among themselves: about God and man, religion and the Land of Israel, pioneering and parents… and about the fine arts… wonderful young people. We accompanied them as far as the English prisoner of war camp on the way to Modena. Later rain fell in Nonantola and a weight descended on Villa Emma.

“Why can’t we be happy like them and move freely over spaces? Because we are refugees and forced to take permission for every step of our steps and to bewail every unfulfilled desire… no, we cannot be happy like our friends from Florence.” And in the room of the older “Cherut” group, harsher things were said: “Cursed life! You’ll see that one day I’ll run away to Florence. To be like this, closed and shut in! They always see me as a little child!”

Pauli sought to sweeten the pill: “It’s visible that there are still bridges to the world of culture…” “Shut your mouth and sleep” – they silenced him from the sides. In the names of Menachem Bader and Venia, who symbolized the Rescue Committee that sat in Istanbul. We passed short messages to the Warsaw Ghetto and to friends in Bratislava and especially to the pioneering camp that was scattered all over Italy. The guys took an active part in these efforts of ours. They were interested in details, read every letter that arrived, searched among the visitors to the office for members of pioneering movements, veteran Zionists, and more. Respect for the movement that cares so much for its members increased in them.