John left early one morning for Mr. Frisch’s house. The skies were dark and menacing, and the clouds looked ready to explode with rain. Nothing was worse than a cold, rainy day that couldn’t decide if it was fall or winter and ended up being a mess of both, he thought. He pulled the collar of his jacket up around his neck. The jacket was old and fraying at the sleeves. It was a hand-me-down from Karel, but it was beginning to feel tight on John too. He picked up his pace. He would get soaked if he didn’t hurry. Sure enough, the first icy drops were falling as he turned the corner to school. By the time he arrived at Mr. Frisch’s home, it was pouring.
Inside, John caught Beda’s eye and the two of them moved to desks in a corner of the living room. They pulled out their notebooks and waited for Mr. Frisch to begin his lesson. John yawned as the teacher’s eyes gazed sternly in his direction. The day had barely started and he was already feeling restless. “Attention, students. Quiet, please.” The class settled as Mr. Frisch began to speak. “Before we begin today, Ruda Stadler has asked if he might have a few moments to speak with you.” With that, Mr. Frisch turned to Ruda, who had entered the living room and moved to stand at the front.
In this editorial Ruda asks for articles that are more serious. He writes, “So now Issue 4 of Klepy has been released. Most credit belongs to those who contribute, since without them there could not be an issue. However, many haven’t written a line for Klepy. Now, I would also appreciate receiving contributions that deal with events that are more serious. Certainly one can come up with a lot of ideas that could become a subject for open discussion in Klepy.”
John brightened. He liked Ruda, and had always looked up to him because of his great skills in sports. Anyone who could smash a volleyball like Ruda was a hero in John’s eyes. But these days, he was also in awe of Ruda because of Klepy. In fact, most of the city’s Jewish families appreciated Ruda and his determination to keep Klepy going.
Ruda faced the children. “Raise your hand if you’ve read Klepy.”
They all held up a hand, and some of the children snickered softly. What a silly question, thought John. Of course we’ve all read it.
“Raise your hand if you like what we’ve written so far.”
Again, every child lifted a hand high. Even Mr. Frisch raised his hand. “The reason I’m here,” continued Ruda, “is to appeal to each and every one of you to join our writing team. We can only keep Klepy going if each one of you in this room becomes a reporter. It’s not enough to just read the newspaper. And it’s not okay to read what someone else has written and sit back and criticize it. You have to write as well. We need more articles. If this newspaper is to continue to grow, then everyone has to become involved.”
Ruda paused, allowing his words to sink in. John glanced over at Beda, whose eyes were shining. Beda loved writing. This was the invitation he was looking for. “What kind of articles do you need?” asked Tulina.
“Anything,” Ruda replied. “Write something about your family or your pet. Write something about the swimming hole. Everyone loves to read about our playground. I know the newspaper was easier to produce during the summer, when we were all together. But now, more than ever, we need a way to stay connected. Klepy can help us do that.
“Every day,” Ruda continued, “there are new rules about what we can and can’t do. Well, the one thing that can’t be restricted is our minds. No one can forbid us to think. So I’m asking you to use your minds and write something.”
“Can we make drawings?” Beda asked.
Ruda nodded. “Of course. Draw pictures or cartoons. Write about people you like or people who are interesting to you.” He looked over at John and Tulina, and John blushed furiously. It seemed that others knew about his crush on her. “Write jokes or comics. Bring all your articles to my home. I promise you, my editors and I will read everything you submit, no matter how long or short.” He paused and moved closer to the students. “Think about seeing your name in print, and how it will make you feel. Ours is a small newspaper, but it can have a positive influence on our lives. I know that each of you has something to contribute – something important to say.” With that, he thanked Mr. Frisch for allowing him to speak, and left the house.
The children buzzed with excitement. Several pulled out notebooks and began writing. Ruda had inspired them so much that they wasted no time getting started. As for John, his head was spinning. He wanted to write something too. Could he become a contributing reporter? He picked up his notebook, staring down at the blank page and imagining what his first contribution might be.