Lidia

No doubt Lidia was moved by the words of Esperanto's chief orator, her father's disciple. One may imagine she felt, as the Esperantists always did, re-inspired by his exhortations to go forth and fulfill their sacred task. Perhaps, as he spoke, she even thought: she would be one of those knights of the new era, armed with the spirit and the language of Zamenhof; she would go forth to slay the dark dragon and bring humanity toward the light of understanding. In any case, it was there in Vienna that Lidia began to take up a public role in the Esperanto movement. She attended many of the specialist meetings at the congress and took part in the meeting of the Esperanto students, where she was chosen to serve as secretary of the International Student Esperantist Association. But it was at the final working session of the congress that she really made her presence, and her convictions, known.

A proposal had been presented to the congress asking that all should accept the opinions of the Academy of Esperanto and the Language Committee concerning changes in the language. Ever since Zamenhofs death, it had been crucial that the authority of the linguistic institutions be respected in order to guard the integrity of the language. Vasily Eroshenko, a blind expatriate Russian who taught at the University of Peking, expressed his opinion that while the Academy must control the evolution of the language, it must allow that evolution to occur. The Academy was too conservative, he felt, and did not sufficiently respect the usage and preferences of the people.

The discussion went on, various persons offering their views on the subject. Then, probably to the astonishment of many in the audience, a slight, pale young woman rose to speak. It was Lidia. She asserted that several of the speakers were confusing evolution with anarchy. The evolution of the language could succeed, she said, only if it were limited by a certain amount of discipline.

It is not hard to imagine that there were indulgent smiles in the Konzerthaus at the impassioned words of the young university student, Miss Zamenhof. But Edmond Privat, at least, might have been reminded poignantly of the idealism of another Zamenhof as a student: Lidia's father.

The Esperantists would soon learn that here was another Zamenhof who would speak her mind and express her convictions openly and fearlessly. As she did that day in Vienna, Lidia would always urge unity and warn against anything that might lead to division or schism in the Esperanto movement.

Klara had struggled bravely through the congress, although it was evident that she was in great pain. On the way home, she spent some weeks at a spa in Czechoslovakia. The treatment did her no good; she retumed home seriously ill and was confined to bed. The doctors decided to operate but soon found it was futile; the cancer had spread too far. Lidia watched her mother's agony helplessly. 'Death began to cover you with the veil of unconsciousness before your heart stopped . . Lidia later recalled. 'Treacherous illness - which revealed its malevolent face when escape was no longer possible. And nailed to your bed of suffering, you waited for death because, yes, you were aware at the end that it was your last illness.' At the beginning of December word reached Klara that the goal she had worked toward would finally be achieved: the monument for Ludwik ZamenhoPs grave had been completed and was on its way to Warsaw. Klara did not live to see it set in place: on December 6, 1924 she died. Her last wish was to be buried beside her husband.

'You went away,' moumed Lidia, 'you left that wasting body, which we committed to the earth. May the earth be light upon you. . . and may you be happy in th&world where there is no more pain. That is what your daughter, in the hour of remembrance, wishes for you.'

Once again a funeral procession wound its way through the streets of thejewish quarter of Warsaw, down Dzika Street then toward the cemetery. Once again the mourners listened to the oratory of Leo Belmont, followed by nine others. The prayers were intoned; the coffin glided downward. The verses of La Espero, sung with sadness, drifted up to the winter sky. Once again the earth was piled up and heaped with flower wreaths.

EIGHT

Geneva

The Esperanto movement had rapidly rebuilt itself after the devastation of the Great War. As a wave of renewed hope for peace and an awareness of intemationalism spread, Esperanto gained recognition, respect and acceptance for its usefulness. But the road was still rocky. In some countries, nationalism continued to hinder Esperanto's progress, while within the movement disagreement over the question of neutrality divided the Esperantists.