Earliest childhood

We’ve all probably read or heard somewhere that a child’s first 3 to 7 years are very influential in life. Surprisingly, I still remember some of the experiences that I am writing here, some my mother told me.

I was born with the help of a midwife, in village Ottenschlag, in the house where we lived. I was born out of wedlock, but my mother and grandparents loved me.

Since my mother went to work, grandma took care of me. Between the first and second year of life I was very curious and wanted to get to know my little world outside. I climbed from the cot onto the windowsill. The window was just open to get fresh air and I fell out just before my grandma could reach and hold me. Luckily we lived on the ground floor. When my grandma ran out to check on me, I was already running towards her. She noticed that my nose was a bit shifted and called the local doctor. He found that nothing was broken and adjusted the nose. Since then I have had a small curvature on the right side of my nose. But not noticeable if you don’t look closely. Only once did someone in the USA ask me if I play football.

In the same house lived a family with 2 children, a boy and a girl, who were a bit older and often played outside with me. One day, after a rain, I saw a puddle. It was mixed with gasoline, the sun shone on it and shimmered in rainbow colors. It fascinated me and that’s why I remember it.

I was about 3 years old and my mother took me to a pub for the St. Nicholas celebrations. Before St. Nicholas came, Krampus (the punishing companion) was walking around. When he came to us and asked me “Well, have you been good too?” I said: “Yes, I am, but you are not!” My mother was quite surprised at my answer.

When I was three or four years old, Grandma died of cancer. She had suffered painfully from it for years. That was very sad for my mother and me, but a relief for grandma.

On Friday, November 13th, 1959 we moved to Vienna, to a small side street with little traffic. My favorite toy was a tricycle which I rode up and down the sidewalk. My first conversation with a boy (with viennase accent) from the house across the street was something like this: “Why are you talking so funny?” I didn’t understand the question and thought to myself: “You’re talking funny, not me.” A new chapter in my life began.

Unplash Foto from Luca N.: Waldviertel