Then I was living in a nice, just constructed building apartment for Hight hierarchy of the Oil Industry management.
The 4-floors building was at only 20 meters from the City hall and PCR, Romanian Communist Party HQ, at about 100 meters from the General Hight school, 200 meters from the main open agricultural market And right in front of the CITY Main square. On the other side on the square, in the main street, T. Vladimirescu, was a gray cement building, for the main Romanian Post. The building had a small square and there, usually, close to Christmas times, a nice green pine from the so many hill side surrounding the city. On the Christmas day, there was a tradition for the kids in the city to line up in front of the tree and the city official will hand small toys and presents. Not big stuff, expensive item. Something the city hall can afford.
Maybe I was 10-11 years old at that time, before my barmitzfa. I was on the secondary school, well known as being a brilliant student, but with a light authority-respecting problem. That problem landing be in a constant call ( at least one a week) for my Mother to came to talk to the principal and a low score on the “purtare” a very abstract grade as “behavior”. I was always at deficit on Purtare. A max 10 owner on other studies, but always a 7-8 on Purtare and this grade was so important as being 50% of the final grade. So, my max score was around 80%, because Purtare was 50% of the calculation.
In was in the winter vacations and roaming the city on a very sunny and nice day. It was close to noon. The line was forming again, against the tall green decorated tree, with so many kids. Innocently, I entered the line, in my your kid naivete….. I was standing in line, with a constant look around me, as expecting someone to arrive, to grab me from And out of the line. I was surprised when my turn arrived, undisturbed. I was trying to blend in, and in mi innocent mind, my game was winning, with no worries. My turn arrived, some lady from the city hall, smiled to me, asked me about my name, “Hedi Enghelberg” and handled a box, nicely wrapped. I was so happy of having a gift on this day…out of the thin cold air….as I never received any gift on Christmas… I am not even making a step outside the line, with my gift, all happy and dandy, when an civilian from the same City Hall, who was supervision that action from a corner ( I vaguely knew), comer rushing, got me, taking the gift from my hands:
“He is Jewish, he is not a gentile, not a Christian. No gift for him!”
All the movement was so fast, I had no time to react. The inertia of my body, going out of line, was carrying me, and I continued like nothing, on the side walk of the main T. Vladimirescu Street. My young mind was analyzing what just happened: I received a gift -so nice- of the City Hall and it was taken from me because I was a Jew. Both of this actions were real and true. On one side, I was happy I could make the line and get there…. At least, I was on the line, happy for a few moments, I will get a gift…
I just continued my walk, on that so-nice-sunny-cool-December-day. I arrived at the Main General Store and went to the electrical department, my favorite. With some pocket money, that I always had, I purchase a 2.5V bulb and a 4.5V battery. I was really happy. Not always you can find a fresh 4.5 Volt battery, new and genuine, made in Germany by Varta. I always had to recycle batteries, find old ones, measure each of the 1.5V 3-element and put them back together. Now I can play with my electrical stuff, galena-crystal radios.
CODA: Not getting the City Hall gift, did not affect me. I totally ignored the incident, as a happy kid playing with his battery, completely oblivious to what just happened. I was happy with my small bulb and the new Varta battery. But that time was the only time I stood in line for a gift. It never happened again!
Engr. HEDI Enghelberg
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+1 954.778.8543
Hedi@Enghelberg.com
HediEng@gmail.com
