Do we accept with a degree of resignation ourselves , our surrounding , the world such as it is , the way others are forming, shaping it , or do I become with self-determination , constituting , forming force ? Do I take my own fight for freedom in my hand or do I let myself become a drifter in the everyday ?!
On the last day of the year a gentle knock attracted my attention . A very unassuming ,smiling woman was standing at the entrance of the monastery . She came from Kismuncsel that is roughly 30 km from Déva from an abandoned mining settlement, this mother of four, in trouble, of Hungarian background but no longer speaking a word in Hungarian.
A few years ago around Easter time I was at a slum district near Déva. We took gifts for the poor ! A young man came up to me and asked me to bless his house. He was youngster aged between 16-17 years , I even asked him did the house belong to his parents . He proudly answered “no” , this one was built by him. In this area there were around 30-40 such small huts: this boy also collected the stones , pieces of bricks and built a tiny house . From the outside it looked ramshackle , but on the inside the walls were nicely smoothed down , and on one of them with blue letters a “scribbled” writing saying: “Welcome my darling wife ! “ I looked at him with widely opened eyes , then he told me that during the night his tiny daughter was born . The day after tomorrow he is going to the hospital to bring them home into their little house .
I visited three of our children who were spending their vacation in Vajdahunyad . I stood shocked in the doorway of the simple garage made out of concrete. After my eyes got used to the semi-darkness I closed the rough iron door behind me. Deep inside the garage on a convertible sofa-bed the grandmother, the mother and the three children were huddled up together .The father kindly invited me in and offered me a place . I embraced Robika aged ten, Maria aged twelve and the thirteen year old Petra .
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