From "Once upon a time the war" by Sonia Bruno and Fabio Levi "- Silvio Zamorani Publisher, Turin 2002. We were in the summer when it left the Jewish law that required the students to leave school. I had finished the third grade, I had to go in the fourth. I do not know right away they did not give me grief. But the autumn mom told me one day, the tone of the one that says something unimportant, "You know, next year you can not go to your school and go to another school where there will be all Jewish children ". For me it was a cold shower, leave the teacher, leaving his teammates. So it was. The beginning was quite difficult, but I made friends with new friends, then little by little I loved to teacher. Anyway I waited with great anxiety the day when there would have been awarding children to public school where I went. Because I had been third in the "prize of the second degree." I deserved an award because I was good at school, on appeal because there was one more clever than me. But I was happy. The award ceremony took place in the middle of the year after and I was expecting the day when I went to collect my prize and to see my teacher and my classmates. The day prior to the awards sounded at the door. RIING ... who will? My mom answers it. Mignon was the janitor of the school, carrying a package containing a book and said - I would describe, small-and fat: "The lady manager sends this award for the girl Elena O.; should not come tomorrow for the awards do not desecrate the schools of the Kingdom of Italy." It 'was the first crowds displeasure of my life. I cried, I cried ... and that book, moreover, was also bad, a book of Greek mythology, fascist. And I cried and screamed. Then my mom tried to console me, saying: "We will make a good party in our house, we will make the award." He did come all the aunts who pretended to be the patrons and all the little cousins \u200b\u200bwho were small and did not understand, and each had a small prize, the mother trial was put on the floor so we did a really great party home. But that was the greatest regret, my first great sorrow.
MEMORY AND THE 'JUSTICE | 
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