Another guest at the cafe was one of the finest people I have ever met, Korczak.
He was a man of a letters who knew almost all the leading artists of the Young Poland movement.
He was not regarded as one of the very first rank of writers because of his achievements in the field of literature had a very special character: they were the stories about children,
and notable for their great understanding of the child's mind. They were written not out of artistic ambition but straight from the heart of a born activist and educationalist.
His true value was not in what he wrote, but in the fact that he lived as he wrote.
Years ago, at the start of his career, he had devoted every minute of his free time and every money he had available to the cause of children, and he was to be devoted them until his death.
He founded orphanages, organized all kinds of collections for poor children and gave talks on the radio, winning himself wide popularity (and not just among children) as the 'Old Doctor'.
When the ghetto gates closed he came inside them, although he could have saved himself , and he continued his mission within the walls as adoptive father to a dozen Jewish orphans, the poorest most abandoned children in the world.
When we talked to him in the street we did not know how finely or with radiant passion his life would end.