Date: Sat, 29 Apr 2006 13:26:39 +0200
From: Harry Anders <harry@harryanders.com>
Subject: Little-Harrys-youth-10

MY FIRST BOOK 'LITTLE HARRY' IS FOR SALE...

Please buy it. It costs only $ 19.95, and it's helping lots of other people
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Copy this link into your webbrowser:
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and have a look. Thank you very much!

============================

LITTLE HARRY'S YOUTH

The end of chapter 9 said:

Mostly the language was a barrier, as we were in a foreign country and not
everybody spoke our native language. Soon I was very good at pointing out
things, or 'talking' with my hands and my eyes. When they really didn't
understand me, I took their hands and dragged them to where I needed
them. Never in my life did people ruffle my hair so much as during our
'vacation', and I loved it! I still do...

Now and then I could understand them nevertheless. I listened to their
words, and felt the energy the words represented. I also seemed to pick up
those foreign words very fast, and my Dad proudly told me I had 'a knack
for languages'. Of course he had to explain what he meant with that...

Most nights we parked our combination in a secluded spot, or sometimes we
drove somewhere into the woods. Now and then we were in a town and parked
our caravan in a big parking lot, but nearly always some police officer
showed up, preferably in the middle of the night, and chased us
away. Sleeping in our caravan was not allowed outside a camping site, so we
had to drive on. Funny people, those gadjo's...

-----------------

Chapter 10. Lost and found, and meeting other gypsies.

We went into a big town, where my Dad stopped our combination in a huge
parking lot. I left our car, and looked in awe at an enormous five-story
building, that rose majestically from the opposite side of the square. It
was HUGE, and I was very impressed.

I took my Dad's hand and dragged him towards the building, which displayed
many enormous windows filled with all sorts of beautiful things. I pushed
my nose against a window, and stared at what had to be the biggest
collection of gadjo utensils in the world. Another window held all sorts of
nice clothing for men and women, while a third window held lots of mountain
shoes and ski's, and in a fourth window I even saw bicycles.

I dragged my Dad to the entrance, where a couple of huge glass doors turned
around and around, pushed by many people and little children who went in
and out in a continual stream.  Here I saw again such a clever gadjo thing,
and of course I wanted to try it out:

"Dad, what kind of a building is this? Are we allowed to enter it?"

"This building is called a 'warehouse', and inside they are selling all
kinds of things people need, or maybe they think they will need them."

"Can we have a look inside?"

"Ask your Mom..."

My Mom nodded her consent, and we went to the turnaround doors. Of course I
had to try them out first, and playfully went in and out a couple of times,
speeding them up until a few people started to complain. My parents
laughed, and patiently waited until my curiosity was satisfied.

Now we entered the 'warehouse', and it reminded me of the enormous store
Michail and I had visited a year ago. I looked around; and yes, there were
the escalators! I dragged my parents to them, and carefully looked around
for nasty security people. Fortunately I saw none, and off I went, racing
up the first escalator at an enormous speed, and near the top trying to
descend it fast enough to reach my parents again.

After a couple of times, and many complaining customers, I was finally
tired and asked my Dad to put me onto his shoulders. He did, and together
we ascended four escalators to the top of the building, where my parents
surprised me by buying us a tasty gadjo meal and sorbets afterwards.  I was
filled to the brim, and full of renewed energy.

Slowly we descended the escalators one by one, looking around every
time. We reached the third floor, and suddenly I saw such a beautiful
spectacle... tens of little trains having many wagons attached, driving
along fictitious streams, crossing little bridges, disappearing into
tunnels across mountains, and reappearing at the other side... my eyes
bulged, and I looked at everything open-mouthed and holding my breath.

I tried to follow every particular train, and jumped from left to right to
look where they disappeared and reappeared without bumping into each
other. I even crawled under the display table, to look at all those wires
that electrically steered the signal posts and level crossings. Those
gadjo's were REALLY very clever, to be able to build such marvelous
technical things!

My parents sat down on a nearby bench, laughing at my insatiable
curiosity. They started a conversation with a few other people that sat
down and obviously spoke our language, and seemed to enjoy themselves.

I had seen enough of the little trains, and started to look around. Now I
was drawn towards an enormous glass case, which held hundreds of old steam
engines, open wagons, cattle trucks, and lots of other miniature
antiquities from a distant past. I tried to decipher the attached display
cards, and now and then could understand a few words.

Another small boy joined me, and told me something in the foreign
language. I told him in my language I didn't understand him, but that
wasn't a problem at all. Soon both of us went to the next aisle, and played
with the little fur toys that were for sale and had a small price tag
attached. I was a lion and he was a grizzly bear, until we went on to the
next aisle.

We strolled around for a long time, bumping shoulders, until his mother
showed up. She laughed at me, ruffled my hair, and took his hand. They
waved at me, went to one of the escalators, and disappeared into nowhere.

I looked around to see where my parents were. Where had I left them,
sitting on that bench and talking to other people? I tiptoed and craned my
neck, but was way too small to be able to look across all those tall
displays. I was only a small boy, and this was an enormous store...

I had to find my parents, so I straightened my back and started to walk. I
passed aisle after aisle, looking for a point of recognition, but suddenly
everything I passed looked the same. I walked on stubbornly, hoping that at
last I would see at least something I recognized...

There were the escalators! Now I would find my parents, and tell them about
my new friend... but which way did we go? I tried to remember how we left
the escalator, and entered this floor. We walked somewhere, and then I saw
those little trains... but where did we walk?

I decided to ask somebody where the little trains were, and went to a man
that looked around, leaning against a colored pillar. I approached him, but
suddenly I saw something in his eyes I recognized from that man that
bruised my balls. I even felt the pain returning, and involuntarily my
hands went there. Now the man's eyes started to gleam, and he left the
pillar and walked towards me, trying to smile.

I panicked. I looked around in a flash, and jumped towards the escalator,
entering it and jumping three steps at a time, forcing myself past the
other customers who started to scold. I couldn't care less, and left the
escalator ducking my head and bolting towards the next aisle. I rounded a
few corners, and stopped out of breath. I looked around anxiously: did that
man follow me?  Fortunately I didn't see him any more, and slowly relaxed
while I regained my breath and my heart stopped jumping up and down.

Now I had lost every orientation. I hadn't the slightest idea where I
was. This was totally different from our woods, where I could tune myself
into something, and then felt myself drawn towards it. Here were too many
different energies that disturbed my abilities and made me dizzy.

I started to walk again, hoping to find the escalators. Again I passed
aisle after aisle, until at last I saw them, slowly moving up and down. But
where would that man be that looked at me with those greedy eyes? I was too
afraid to go back to the third floor and meet him again...

Suddenly I felt totally lost, and started to sob. Would my parents miss me
already? Would they be in a panic now, looking around for me everywhere?
Where were they? Would I ever see them again? I stepped onto the escalator,
blinded by my tears...

I nearly stumbled at the unexpected end of the escalator, and somebody took
my arm. At first I panicked: was it that greedy man? I looked up, and to my
relief I saw a uniform. This man could help me! He had to be one of the
security officers.

The man asked me something I didn't understand, but I felt at ease with him
and dried my tears with a sleeve of my shirt. He would protect me against
that greedy man, and help me find my parents. I felt I could trust him.  I
hoped he would understand my language, and told him:

"I've lost my parents near those little trains. Please could you help me
find them?"

The officer laughed at me, and offered me his hand. Gratefully, I took it,
and together we walked towards the moving-trains display. There was the
bench I had been looking for, but where were my parents? Did they leave me
alone? Or did they miss me and were they looking for me now?

The security officer kneeled down to get on level with me and told me,
looking for the right words, that he wanted to take me to the office, where
they would 'call' my parents. Now I snickered inwardly... how would he do
that? Going around shouting for them on every floor? I had no idea...

Together we descended the escalators until we reached the ground floor. The
officer took me through a door, and we entered a cozy room that held a nice
couch and a bunch of plants and flowers. A lady approached us, and the
officer spoke to her in his own language.

She turned to me and ruffled my hair, asking me in my own language:

"I think you have lost your parents, and were looking for them?"

I told her everything about the little trains, my new friend, getting lost
in between all those aisles that suddenly all looked the same, the greedy
man I didn't trust, my panicking and fleeing down the escalator where I got
lost again, and finally the security officer that found me.

She took my hand, and guided me to a panel with lots of little knobs and
blinking lights on it:

"Do you want to call your parents yourself? Wait until I've pushed this
little switch, and then tell them you are in the office on the ground
floor. Do you think you can do that?"

Of course I could do that, and I nodded. She offered me the microphone, and
pushed the switch.  I pushed the microphone to my lips, and started:

"Mom, Dad,..."

I nearly let the microphone fall out of my hands at hearing my own voice
reverberating through the entire warehouse LOUDLY.  The lady started to
laugh, and told me not to shout and speak at a short distance from the
microphone.

I blushed, and tried it again:

"Mom, Dad, here's Harry. I got lost and couldn't find you, and a nice
security officer brought me here, in the office on the ground floor. Can
you come and get me?"

The lady took over, and told the microphone:

"Parents of little Harry, please go to the ground floor, and look for the
sign that tells 'office' near the east entrance. It's easy to find. Your
boy is in good hands here, and he's waiting for you. Thank you."

The lady offered me a glass of hot chocolate milk with two helpings of
chocolate, and now we were waiting for my parents. Where would they be?
Would they be angry at me, or maybe disappointed in me? Of course it was my
own fault, because I didn't look where I was going, or warned them I was
following my new friend. I hoped they would come and get me soon!

I waited, and waited, and waited... but my parents didn't show up. After
half an hour the lady took the microphone again, and again asked the
parents of little Harry to go to the office on the ground floor. Again we
waited, and I started to sob. Apparently my parents didn't want me any
longer because I was such a nuisance and had severely disappointed them by
leaving them for my newly found little friend...

At last the lady kneeled down next to the couch, and asked me:

"Where do you live? And do you have any idea where your parents could be
now?"

Suddenly something entered my mind: OF COURSE THEY WERE WAITING FOR ME NEAR
OUR CARAVAN.  That was it! They trusted me. They knew I was very bright,
and could fend for myself, that's why they went to the place they knew I
would show up eventually, because they couldn't warn the police for fear of
being sent back to Rumania... Why didn't I think of that before?

I jumped up, and threw my arms around the lady's neck:

"I know where they are! I had to think of that before! They're waiting for
me near our caravan in the parking lot. Thank you for helping me!"

"Okay, but I'm not letting you go like this. I'm going with you, to look on
that everything is all right."

I took her hand, and together we went to the exit and left the warehouse.
We bumped immediately into my Dad, who looked pale and worried. He started
to cry, took me into his safe arms, and nearly crushed me. My Mom saw us
coming from outside our caravan, and came running towards us, looking very
pale and crying too.

We cried for a long time, and even the lady got tears in her eyes. At last
she left us, after being thanked abundantly by my parents and me.

We went to our caravan, while I walked in between my parents and started to
tell them everything about my adventures in the warehouse. Now and then I
cried a bit, safely in between my parents on the couch in our caravan,
while they both hugged me and comforted me. Finally I had told them
everything, and now they told me how worried they were when I didn't show
up after a while. They looked around for a long time, until they decided to
wait for me near our caravan, convinced I would show up there sooner or
later. They hadn't heard any of the calls.

We dried our eyes, washed our faces in the little sink, and I helped my Mom
prepare dinner, nicely spiced with the remainder of my herbs.

That night I crawled in between my parents, and my Dad grinned and poked me
in the ribs:

"What do you think, Harry, do we have to wear armor tonight?"

I blushed, and felt a bit guilty. My Dad's black eye was still clearly
visible, and my Mom still showed the remainders of the bruises on her arms.

"Sorry, Dad, I couldn't help it. The next time I have a nightmare, please
throw me out of bed instead of trying to hold me."

"I think I will do that. However, maybe two black eyes might enhance my
beauty."

"Well, if you insist, I am willing to give you the second one now."

"No, thanks, maybe another time... My son is only six years old, and he's
already trying to molest me."

"Ah, poor Dad, I think you're becoming OLD."

My Dad tickled me until I nearly wet the bed and begged for mercy. I loved
my old Dad with all my heart, and with REAL love!


In the middle of the night somebody pounded on the door of our caravan. My
Dad stumbled out of bed, sleep-charged, and went to the door. A harsh voice
told him in the foreign language to leave immediately, as we were not
allowed to pass the night here. My Dad tried to argue with the police
officer, but he insisted on our leaving the parking lot now, else he would
arrest us and we would spend the night in a police cell.

Grumbling and muttering, my Dad left our caravan and went to our attached
car, while I crawled into the safe arms of my Mom. Every time when this
happened I was a bit wary those police officers would arrest us and send us
back. Now I felt our caravan starting to move, and fell asleep.

I woke up at feeling a very cold Dad crawl under our blankets, still
grumbling and shivering from the cold. He told us we were in some bushes
now, but he could not clearly see where we were. We hoped nobody would
disturb us from now on, and again fell asleep.

The morning sun woke us up, but we didn't want to leave our warm bed. We
cuddled for a while, until I had to empty my bladder and went into the
living room to have a look outside. Suddenly my heart jumped up with joy:
GYPSIES!  We had landed at the border of a small gypsy camp...

I ran back to the bed, and jumped onto my Dad's stomach:

"Dad, there are lots of gypsy caravans outside. We have found another gypsy
camp! Come on, let's have a look!"

Two minutes later we left our caravan, and looked at a bunch of naked
children staring at us, giggling and pushing each other. Immediately I
returned to our caravan and shucked my clothes. Finally I could run around
naked again! Wow, that felt better...  I ducked under the barbed wire, and
joined the other children smiling broadly. I had MISSED those contacts!

One of the children looked me over, and sneered, speaking in a strange
sounding dialect:

"What are you doing here? You are only a stupid gadjo!"

"I am NOT a gadjo! I resemble my mother, that's why I am blond with blue
eyes. I'm living in Rumania, in our mountains."

He looked at my Mom and my Dad, and returned to me:

"Then you are a bastard, as your Mom definitely is NOT a gypsy. And you are
speaking weird."

"Our Wise Woman has checked my Mom, and she was a gypsy in her past
life. She was even of royal herit...something!"

"You have a Wise Woman in your camp? Wow! I've heard of them, but never saw
one myself..."

I seemed to rise in their respect, and two minutes later we were chasing
each other and frolicking around the small campfire.

My Dad approached me, accompanied by another man and my Mom.  He beckoned
me over, and put his arm around my shoulders:

"This is my six-year-old son, Harry, who's accompanying us during our
holiday trip. Harry, this is the leader of this group, just like I am the
leader of our own group in the mountains. We are invited to stay here for a
few days. What do you think?"

Now I knew what my Dad had told the other man, and what I was allowed to
tell my new friends; and of course I wanted to stay:

"Yes, Dad, please. I like it here, and I've already made a couple of
friends."

"I thought so, but I wanted to hear your own decision. Okay, and don't
forget to have breakfast once our caravan is in its place."

He ruffled my hair, and I returned to my friends to resume our game of tag.

I saw my Dad drive our caravan to the circle, where a few men uncoupled our
car and pushed the caravan into an empty spot. My Dad parked the car
outside the camp, and called me to have breakfast. I jumped onto his back,
and together we entered our caravan.

I helped my Mom prepare breakfast, but missed some of my herbs we had
already spent. From now on we had to do without them, until I could find
other tasteful herbs to replace them. Maybe my new friends knew where I
could find some?  Fortunately the meal didn't taste too bad, and soon we
had filled our stomachs.

After breakfast I went outside, to do my job as our water bearer. Soon a
boy of around my age accompanied me, and together we filled the jerrycan,
dragged it back to our caravan, and put it under the sink. My Mom thanked
the boy for his help, and he beamed.

"Mom, this is Dominic, and he is seven years old and my friend. Can he have
dinner with us this afternoon?"

"Of course he may eat with us, but only if his parents agree."

I made us hot chocolate milk, adding two helpings of chocolate each, and we
sipped our milk sitting on the bench near the small campfire. The other
children looked at us curiously, but left us alone.

I thought of our herbs, and asked Dominic:

"Do you know where we can find some nice herbs?"

"What are 'herbs'?"

"Huh? You don't know what herbs are? Those tasty small leaves, to spice
your food with."

"Never heard of. Do they look like grass, or stinging nettles?"

"Some of them, yes. But others look totally different, like red pods or
little needles."

"Let's go and look for them!"

"Okay."

We jumped off the bench, and Dominic went to his caravan and entered it.  I
didn't understand why he suddenly went inside:

"Where are you going?"

"Putting on my clothes of course, or do you want to be arrested for
indecent behavior outside our camp?"

There they were again: those strange gadjo beliefs, imposed onto us by the
stupid majority...

I waited until Dominic dressed into a t-shirt and blue jeans, and together
we went to my caravan, where I dressed into nearly the same clothes. Now we
looked like brothers, one dark-haired and one blonde-haired boy.

My mother looked at me with wonder, and chuckled:

"That's the first time you are dressing without any protest!"

"That's because I don't want to be arrested for indecent behavior outside
the camp."

She grinned, and offered both of us an apple to munch on.

Together we left our caravan and crossed the camp. Dominic seemed to know
the way, and guided us across a street to a small lane that finally ended
up at a large meadow full of cows. I grinned, thinking of my huge girl
friends that liked me so much.

Dominic looked at me with a questioning face:

"What are you laughing at?"

I told him everything about my adventures with the curious cows, and now he
laughed too:

"They are trying to follow us all the time when we are looking for
rabbits."

"What are 'rabbits'?"

"You don't know what rabbits are? Small animals with long ears, and they
are living in rabbit holes under the ground."

"Are you talking about hares?"

"I know what a hare is, but never saw one. Yes, they are looking like
hares, but their ears are a bit shorter."

"In our mountains we are always looking for marmots and porcupines, to
roast over our campfire."

"What are 'marmots' and 'porcupines'?"

We sat down next to each other, and started to tell each other everything
about our different styles of living.

"I wish I could accompany you to your woods, to catch a real badger
myself."

"Maybe I could help you to set up a trap to catch some rabbits."

"That's a good idea. Do you know how to fold a snare?"

I looked at him in disdain, causing him to snicker. A second later we were
rolling around on the grass, trying to pin each other's arms. He won.

We brushed each other's clothes, and entered the meadow, looking for
herbs. The cows looked at us with bored eyes, and resumed their
eating. They were obviously used to little boys frolicking around in their
meadow, and didn't care any more.

Soon I found some chervil, and showed it to Dominic:

"That's one of the herbs I like to use in our foods."

Dominic looked around, and went to another part of the meadow. He returned,
triumphantly swaying with what looked like bigger chervil.

I took it in my hands, and carefully sniffed it:

"This herb doesn't feel right. I think it's poisonous. Take it in your
hands, and feel what it's doing to you."

"But it looks the same as your herb, only it's a lot bigger."

Dominic took the herb into his hands, and then took mine...

"I can feel the difference. Your chervil is feeling good, and mine is
making my stomach throwing up. How come?"

"I think this is a poisonous kind of chervil. Let's look for other herbs."

Dominic seemed to get the knack of it, and could soon feel whether a herb
was useful, or not, just like I always did. After a while we had gathered
enough useful and tasty herbs, and went to our caravan to wash them and put
them away.

My Mom started to prepare our meal, and I helped her. I got a sharp kitchen
knife out of a drawer, and started to fritter some herbs.  Dominic looked
at us with bulging eyes:

"Does your mother allow you to use a sharp knife? Mine would get a
heart-attack..."

"In our mountains I'm the chief cook, and I'm using my own knife all the
time."

"You do have a knife of your own? A really sharp one? Wow..."

We let Dominic help us with the meal, but he didn't dare touch one of the
knives, now and then looking furtively at my skills.

We sat around the small table in the living room, and enjoyed the healthy
and tasty meal. We all liked the new taste, which was rather different from
our mountain herbs. Dominic nearly swallowed his fingers, and studiously
scraped the last helping out of our pan.  He burped, and looked around with
beaming eyes:

"That was the most delicious food I ever tasted in my life! Harry, you are
a wonderful cook."

Now it was my turn to look around with beaming eyes...

After the meal we joined the other children, who had dressed into their
clothes by now. Together we left the camp, and strolled through the town
looking for something usable or eatable. Now and then somebody chased us
away, but most townsmen only looked a bit wary.

Suddenly we met a group of gadjo children, who started to call us names and
throw pebbles at us. Now I had my chance...  I took a pebble from the
ground, aimed, and threw it to the boy who was nearest and had the biggest
mouth. The boy screamed, grabbed his head, and fell down. Immediately all
the other gadjo's fled away, leaving their wounded friend at our mercy...

That was the last thing I had expected. Were all those gadjo's such
chickens? What worthless pieces of shit!  I went to the wounded boy, and
looked at his bruised temple. Nah, he had only a small lump, without any
bleeding. Why did he scream?

I beckoned a few others to help me, and together we pulled the boy
upright. He looked at us with frightened eyes...  I kneeled down to be on
level, and offered him my hand:

"Want to be friends? That's much better than throwing pebbles at each
other."

Dominic translated my words to the boy, and he reacted rather shocked:

"But... but you are GYPSIES..."

"Yes, we are, and you are a GADJO. So what?"

"A 'gadjo'? Never heard of. But why are you so nice to me? They always told
me those gypsies are mean and unreliable..."

"Well, look at me and at my friends. Do we look mean, or unreliable?"

Dominic translated my words, and the boy colored a deep red and seemed to
shame himself for believing that slander.

I saw the other gadjo children furtively peeking around a corner of the
street, and beckoned them over. Hesitantly they neared us, looking at their
wounded friend who suddenly seemed to be our friend too. They obviously
didn't comprehend what had happened...

We sat down on a few nearby benches, shuffling our feet and furtively
looking at each other. Were we still enemies? What should we do now? How
should we go on from here?

Suddenly I felt a fire burning in my heart, and I started to talk. I told
them about our living in our secluded camp in the mountains, being hungry
in the winter and forced by the circumstances to beg for food, or even
steal it to be able to stay alive. I told them about the witch-hunts, where
our innocent people were interrogated by the police, and sent away to walk
back to our camp having cramped muscles and sore feet. I told them about
all the name-calling and mistrusting, which wasn't our fault as we didn't
do anything to be ashamed of. Finally I told them about my parents and me,
accused solely because I resembled another blonde-haired little boy, and
forced to leave our mountains for a couple of weeks, hoping everything
would calm down before we went back...

All the time Dominic sat next to me and translated my words, seemingly
feeling that same fire and putting it into his translations.

They listened open-mouthed, and a few of them even had tears in their eyes.
Suddenly I felt like waking up from a strange dream. Was that ME who had
told them all that, having such a strong fire burning in my heart that made
them really listen to my story? Wow!

All at once I was a bit shy, and started to blush. Ultimately I WAS only a
small runt...  Slowly the fire in my heart disappeared, and just before it
went away I heard a warm and friendly voice in my head:

"Thank you, my little friend. Today you have started your task on earth,
being an apostle of peace."

I looked around, but nobody had told me anything... did I make up that
voice in my head myself? I wasn't sure...

Both groups of children looked at each other, and suddenly one of them
offered his hand to the others:

"I think the little blond boy is right. You gypsies don't seem to be that
bad at all. Maybe we could even be friends?"

Dominic whispered the translation to me, but I could also feel the energy
of the words the boy spoke.

Ten minutes later we strolled through the town together, draping our arms
around each other's shoulders, making lots of grown-ups look at us with
bulging eyes... A bunch of town children and camp gypsies, all together and
friends with each other? Can pigs fly?

At last we parted and went back to our camp, promising to meet each other
the next day and be friends again.  Dominic looked at me with awe in his
eyes:

"Wow, you looked like a real Prince when you told us all that stuff! I
forgot everything around, and was totally caught up in your story."

The others confirmed Dominic's feelings, and started to call me 'Little
Prince'.  Now I was in a dilemma. I knew my Dad didn't want them to know he
was their King and I was their Prince. How would he react when he heard the
children call me 'Little Prince' all of a sudden? Wouldn't he think I
betrayed his trust? Would he be very mad at me?

Should I tell the children to stop calling me nicknames? But for what
reason? I couldn't explain anything without telling them too much...  I
decided to let them do for the moment, and talk it over with my Dad and my
Mom first, hoping they would understand...

I walked Dominic home. He threw his arms around my neck, and thanked me for
being his friend. Now I went to our caravan, feeling very unsure.  My
parents looked at me, and obviously felt something:

"How was your evening? Did you enjoy the company of your newly found
friends?"

"Mom, Dad, I want to tell you something. We met a couple of town children
who started to call us names and throw pebbles at us. I don't know why I
did it, but I took a pebble from the ground and threw it back, hitting the
biggest loudmouth. He screamed and fell down, while all the others fled and
left him at our mercy, the cowards! He wasn't wounded, but thought that all
gypsies were mean and unreliable. His friends returned, and suddenly I
started to tell them everything about our life in the mountains and why we
had to flee. Now we are friends, and promised to meet again tomorrow. But
now my friends are calling me 'Little Prince' all of a sudden, and I didn't
tell them anything about you being the King or me being a Prince. I didn't
betray your trust, I really didn't. Are you mad at me now?"

I started to sob, and my Dad took me onto his lap and held me close. He
waited patiently until my sobs diminished, and dried my eyes with a tissue
my Mom provided. Now I saw both of them had tears in their eyes too, and
looked at me with more love than I could bear.

"My precious son, today you have proven to be a REAL Prince. Only a person
of Royal Blood could be afraid of betraying my trust in this way... Be
proud of your nickname, you have earned it. From now on you are a real
Little Prince, only they don't have to know it's more than a nickname."

I felt very relieved, and decided to tell him the rest too:

"There was something else I want to tell you. While I told them my story, I
felt like there was a burning fire in my heart all the time, that's why
they really listened to me. When the fire disappeared, I heard a voice in
my head telling me I was an 'apostle of peace'. Did I make up that voice
myself?"

My Dad looked at me for a long time, and finally nodded:

"Do you remember what the Wise Woman told you once? I will repeat her words
to you: 'Our ancestors are with you and guiding you, because you have an
important task to fulfil in your life. Always listen to the inspirations
they are giving you, and you will be protected.'  "What do you think, were
our ancestors helping you today?"

"I think so... but it felt very strange."

"I think it will not be wrong to thank them in your mind."

I did, and it felt good.


The next day my parents decided to continue our vacation trip. I knew it
was a wise thing to do, but another part of me felt sad.  Dominic started
to cry when he heard the news, and threw his arms around my neck:

"Can't your parents leave you here, and return here later on to collect
you?"

"Well, part of me wants to stay here with you and with my other friends,
but another part of me wants to go on with the sightseeing. I want to
discover many other strange countries, and this is the chance of my life to
visit them. Can't you go with me?"

"That's a good idea! I'll ask my parents..."

Dominic rushed to his caravan, and soon returned looking disappointed:

"They won't let me go. I will have to wait until I'm old enough to visit
those countries by myself."

At last my parents and I decided to return to this camp after our vacation,
and stay here for another few days. Dominic started to dance around and
dried his tears, looking forward to our renewed meeting within a few weeks.
Suddenly I had a strange feeling: I wouldn't see him again until after many
years... I shook my head, and pushed the feeling away.

A few grown-ups helped my Dad connect the caravan to our car, and we all
hugged each other, promising to see each other again within a few weeks. My
Dad started the engine, and we drove off, cheered at by everybody and
waving until we rounded the corner and couldn't see them any longer.  Again
we were on our way to see more of those strange gadjo countries...


============================

Thank you for reading this chapter of 'Little Harry's youth'.

My FIRST book, 'Little Harry', is FOR SALE! It costs only $ 19.95 ...
Please visit my homepage  http://www.harryanders.com
and buy it. It's helping lots of people to cope with their feelings!


I love your emails, please send them to  harry@harryanders.com .

Maybe I will not be able to answer all of them, but be assured I will
certainly read them all!


I wish you lots of Love in your life, and Peace in your heart.
And thank you, Nifty, for hosting my stories.

Harry AnderS, alternative writer.
I'm living in The Netherlands, and my native language is Dutch.
Please have a look at my site  http://www.harryanders.com
or send me and email at  mailto:harry@harryanders.com