I am only a little Gypsy 1 - Reincarnation, does it exist? - 10. Chapter 10. Enchanting fire; talking; I am one year old.

Soon, the inevitable happened. For only a few seconds, my Mom turned around, to listen to my Dad who told her something. At exactly that same moment, I left my parents, toddled towards our faintly glowing campfire, and curiously grabbed a burning branch. Feeling totally fascinated, I stared at its beautifully glowing end with all those playful little flames that seemed to enchant me. Never before had I seen such a wonderful and strangely appealing thing! Fortunately, I didn't put the burning branch into my mouth to taste it, as I had tried to do with all the other interesting things. Tentatively, as if somebody in my Inside warned me in advance to be extremely careful, I only touched its beautifully glowing end...

Immediately, I burst out into a very loud and very angry ROAR, so that my deep and sonorous sounding baritone voice reverberated through our entire camp and even chased a flock of angrily twittering birds away from a nearby big tree. OUCH! That hurt TERRIBLY! Feeling utterly betrayed by the unexpectedly searing pain, I threw the burning branch far away, with another loud roar.

At hearing my angry growls, several people came storming towards me, clearly alarmed by my loudly roaring deep baritone voice. All of them crowded around me and wanted to know what had happened to their so loudly screaming little Crown Prince. One of the alerted children took the still burning branch from the wooden steps to one of our caravans and quickly put it back onto our campfire, before it burned our entire camp down! In the meantime, my parents looked at my suddenly reddening hand with worried and guilty faces...

However, I had already gritted my teeth, taken a very deep breath, and stopped growling, because this had been my own fault, for again being too incautious and not playing it safe until I could be sure there was no danger involved. As my Mom already told me, I really had to be a lot more careful with all those unknown things, certainly until my baby brain started to understand the real meaning of 'danger'!

Everybody in our camp followed my guilty looking parents and me towards our caravan. In our kitchen, my Mom first soaked my painful hand in lots of cold water, until the burning sensation slowly lessened. Next, she took me to our Wise Woman, who put a soothing balsam onto my reddening burns. She also brewed a sour tasting tea and let me drink it, to dull the pain and let me sleep better.

Although I didn't get any blisters, the dull pain held on for many agonizing hours. All the time, my guilty looking Mom held me on her lap and whispered soothing words into my ears, until I finally calmed down and fell asleep. This time, my lesson had been a VERY clear one. I HAD to be a lot more careful with those unknown things, until I knew exactly what terrible harm they could do to me!

The next morning, immediately after my Mom had bathed me, put a fresh diaper on me, and fed me, I forgot my painful experience, trotted outside, and just went on exploring my new world, although I now acted quite a lot more careful. Again, I started to take a look at all the interesting things that were calling for my attention. However, from now on, I only looked at them, instead of touching them and trying to put them into my mouth, as I had done all the time before. This time, I had really learned my important lesson of being quite a lot more careful, always and everywhere.

At first, my still guilty looking Mom kept on following me wherever I went, albeit now even more closely. Until, at long last, she saw that I really acted a lot more careful than I had been doing before, and, finally, she started to relax somewhat. That is, until I climbed the few wooden steps to one of our surrounding caravans, by pulling myself up by its rickety handrail. Unexpectedly, I stumbled, grabbled around in vain, and tumbled down with a loud yelp and a dull thump! This time, I started to cry, not from the little bit of pain, but only from feeling betrayed. My again worried looking Mom tried to comfort me, but I was already on my way towards another very interesting object that had caught my immediate attention.

This time, my Dad started to laugh at seeing my even more guilty looking Mom, while he teasingly admonished her:

"Our son has to learn from those experiences, and I am sure he is clever enough not to make the same mistake twice..."

Two minutes later, I fell off the wooden steps to the next caravan and landed upside down. Although I now got a painful lump on my head; who cares? I still had lots of FUN, gritted my teeth, and was already on my way to another interesting object. From now on, my Dad only shook his head but wisely kept his mouth shut...

Near the end of my second day outside, I started to feel too hungry and tired, and therefore asked my Mom to feed me and put me to bed. My Mom looked again at my burnt hand, but both the pain and the reddishness were nearly gone. Yet, I still had to drink another cup of sour tasting tea, to help me sleep deeper if necessary.

That night, I slept like a log, although I started to dream of many beautifully glowing branches with their playfully dancing little flames. This time, they didn't betray or singe me anymore, because I had learned my important lesson and was already acting quite a lot more careful around them. Although those playfully dancing little flames and I would never become real friends, we promised to respect each other, always and everywhere. Apart from that, they were absolutely beautiful and still truly enchanting!

The next morning, the reddishness had nearly disappeared from my hand, and all the pain was already gone. After eating my Mom's 'healthy breakfast' and donning a fresh diaper, I trotted outside and immediately resumed my exploring. Again, I started to look in and under every interesting thing that called for my immediate attention, albeit from now on quite a lot more carefully.

Because, from now on, nothing extraordinary happened, my Mom slowly released her excessive wariness. At last, she just sat down on our usual bench, next to my Dad, and they only looked at me from time to time, to see if everything was still all right with me. That is, until both my Mom and my Dad saw they could trust me not to do any more too dangerous things, and they decided in unison to give me some more freedom. From now on, I could just toddle around all on my own, although one of my parents or a few older grownups still kept a little bit of an eye on my always-curious ministrations.

A few days later, my Dad and Michail were sitting on our Royal wooden bench, talking and drinking coffee, while I toddled around them and stealthily listened in. Hesitatingly, my Dad told my Big Friend about his earlier promise to talk to me as if already I were a grownup... My Dad seemed to feel relieved when my Big Friend only smiled back at him and answered he wasn't surprised at all. From my first day as a little baby, I had already been extremely precocious and very eager to learn. Therefore, my parents could expect that I would be extremely early with speaking and understanding as well!

Then, Michail suggested that my Dad and he should try to teach me some extra words, to help my still babyish speaking develop even faster... Feeling VERY enthusiastic, I stormed towards their bench and sat down next to them, to start immediately with my first lesson! From this remarkable day on, both Michail and my Dad helped me with speaking and understanding any too difficult words, now and then correcting me if necessary, and sometimes also letting me use the really too difficult words in several different sentences.

Of course, their assistance helped me tremendously in developing my grammatical knowledge even faster! Very soon, I had developed a truly impressive and rather extensive vocabulary for such a young kid, and I was able to make myself perfectly clear. I also seemed to have an astonishingly good memory for languages, and never forgot any new words that anybody taught me. Within a few days, several other people started to teach me as well. Happily, they joined us on our bench, and their grammatical lessons and linguistic examples were helping me even more. Day after day, I sat ready on our bench, to learn and to be taught all those difficult words and their meaning.

Within a few weeks, I also started to ask the people around me my OWN difficult questions, and they surely couldn't get away with only some vague half-reply! With a frustrated voice, one of my tormented teachers exclaimed I had to be the youngest 'linguistic prodigy' ever... Of course, I felt very proud of my new honorary title, and I was even able to pronounce its difficult words correctly.

However, nothing in the world comes without a price. After a few more weeks, my tormented teachers started to complain that I had changed into sort of a 'wandering question mark'! Of course, they were right, because my bright brain just couldn't stop badgering them and asking them my burning questions. The words I loved best and used most were 'why' and 'what', closely followed by 'how come'.

From now on, my youthful curiosity was even more insatiable, and my 'bright brainiac brain', as my Dad sometimes called my too clever thinking, always wanted to understand absolutely everything. Slowly, I drove all the helpful people in our camp to despair with my almost impossible questions, for example:

"Why are only my Mom and I having bright blue eyes, and how come all the others in our camp are having dark brown eyes?"

"That is because your Mom comes from a far-away country called 'Sweden'. A few years ago, before you were born, your Dad brought her here and then married her."

"What is a 'far-away country called Sweden'? Why did my Dad bring my Mom here to marry her? How come I look like my Mom and not like my Dad?"

"Well... you know, as we are only simple people, we simply don't know ALL the answers. Therefore, please go ask your Mom or your Dad your next questions. Perhaps, THEY will be able to give you all the proper answers that you seem to be looking for."

Feeling disappointed and also slightly rejected, I turned around and trotted towards my parents, to ask them my questions...

After my Dad told me a few really interesting things about 'dating', 'marrying' a nice woman, and 'getting' children; my Mom started to tell me a few things about 'other countries' where people were living under different circumstances. Of course, I felt now even more curious and therefore immediately asked her my next burning question:

"When are we going to those 'other countries'? I want to see them all, not only from your stories but also with my own eyes!"

"Well, I suppose you might join us to a few other countries after you first have grown up some more and are old enough to travel."

"Why am I not old enough to travel to those other countries now? You and Dad always keep telling me I am already a big boy!"

This time, my Mom didn't answer me anymore, but only started to laugh at seeing my over-enthusiastic face. Then, my wise Dad shook his head and told me I had to be more patient. My time would surely come... Well, up to now, 'patience' had never been my strongest quality, and I wanted to travel to those 'other countries' NOW!

My Dad tried to ruffle my unruly blond hair, but I felt offended and therefore turned around and retreated to another bench. Why was my Dad always telling me I had to wait until I would be 'old enough'? I was already very bright and able to understand everything that he told me, so why did I have to wait for so long? Just wait until I will be old enough to travel to those 'other countries' all by myself...

A few weeks later, my so-called 'bright brainiac brain' decided that I had learned more than enough 'linguistic lessons', at least for now. My hitherto insatiable curiosity was more or less satisfied, I was able to discuss anything that I wanted with all the grownups in our camp, and I had won nearly all our debates with ease and almost effortlessly, although my tiny body was less than one year old and still a tad too small for its age! Therefore, this morning, I suddenly decided to stop learning and start doing something else that suited my real age.

Only, what should I do now? Until now, I had felt at ease only with those older 'teachers', although a few of them also seemed to be jealous of my so extremely early debating skills, probably because I nearly always outdid them with my brainiac solutions or my too witty remarks that made all the others around us laugh and ruffle my unruly blond hair. Only, was that MY fault? Ultimately, they too had already accepted that I was their youngest 'linguistic prodigy' ever...

After some more thinking, I decided to join the youngest kids in our camp who had already tried to talk to me and were again playing their usual games of 'hide and seek' around our caravans. Feeling happy with my decision, I first told my parents that I was going to join my 'new friends', and then trotted towards their playing group... Very much to my happiness, all the playing kids immediately left their games, crowded around me, and greeted me enthusiastically! Clearly, they still wanted to be my friends. However, shortly after I told them that I wanted to join their usual games, most of them started to look disappointed! Why did they do that?

With a very surprised sounding deep baritone voice, I asked them:

"Don't you WANT me to join your games? Why is that?"

Looking even more disappointed, the kids started to look furtively at each other, until one of them hesitatingly answered:

"Well... err... You are still wearing a diaper during the day, and therefore you are only a 'toddler'. Although I personally would very much like to have you in our midst, all of us are already 'infants', and our strict rules forbid us to mingle with any too young kids. How old are you anyway? All of us are already between four and six years old. Although your deep voice sounds quite a lot older, your tiny body is certainly not older than perhaps two years!"

At that moment, I remembered what my wise Dad once told me: After our 'babies' could walk around without any help, they were called 'toddlers'. When they didn't need to wear their diapers anymore during the day, they were called 'infants'; and when they didn't need to wear any diapers at all and stayed dry during both day and night, they were called 'minors' and were allowed to enter our surrounding woods. Clearly, all my new friends were already 'infants', because they didn't need to wear diapers during the day, and all of them were already aged between four and six years old. Technically, I was still a 'toddler', although my deep baritone voice and my extremely mature demeanor made me appear as being quite a lot older; but my tiny body and still having to wear a diaper were betraying me...

Of course, I tried to convince them otherwise, by using all my brainy persuasiveness, but they still didn't let me join them. The fact that I was early in my mental development, or extremely bright for my age, or our Royal Crown Prince, didn't make any difference to them. According to their ancient rules, I just HAD to wait until I stopped being a 'toddler' and became an 'infant'. What if I pooped my diaper, and they could find my hiding place by smelling me? Although I assured them that I would go to my Mom immediately, to let her clean me up and attach a fresh diaper, they still didn't let me join them. I just had to be more patient, until my tiny body no longer needed to wear a diaper during the day. Until that time, I had to wait and in the meantime go play with my 'fellow toddlers'...

Feeling both disappointed and angry, I left my 'new friends' and stomped home, where I crawled onto my Dad's lap to feel consoled and comforted. I just didn't WANT to play with my 'fellow toddlers', because most of them were still behaving like little babies and they were no fun at all. The only things my fellow toddlers seemed to be really good at were sucking on their thumbs and playing with mud and small pebbles. Besides, I had already found out that most toddlers in our secluded camp couldn't even talk properly! Feeling too young and too small, I left my Dad, and just started to play on my own...

Within a few weeks, another cold winter showed up and quickly covered everything with a thick blanket of blinding white snow! That morning, I woke up with a strange sensation, as if everything around me was much brighter than usual. Feeling as if in a trance, I stared outside through our caravan windows at the spectacle that I vaguely remembered from my first day outside, when my Dad had taken me to our circle of wooden benches around our brightly glowing campfire. However, at that time, it had been March the fourth, so that most of the cold had already disappeared towards the quickly approaching spring. Unfortunately, during our too cold winters, all our babies and toddlers had to stay home, because their wet diapers could be freezing in the cold mountain wind. Only our infants, minors, and grownups were allowed to go outside, of course clad in their thick winter outfits with watertight boots and warm mitten, so that they didn't have to fear about any unexpectedly frozen body parts.

Because the cold winter weather forced me to stay home during the entire day, I tried to entertain myself by trying to help my Mom, badgering my Dad, and now and then romping with my Big Friend Michail if he showed up in our nicely warmed caravan. Fortunately, Felicia didn't accompany her boyfriend anymore, since she suddenly stomped out of our caravan. Well, I certainly didn't miss her! Most of the day, I stared longingly through our caravan windows at all my friends who were playing outside, sometimes throwing snowballs at each other, and at other times working closely together and building enormous snowmen. Unfortunately, I still had to wait until I finally would be dry and no longer needed my diaper during the day, before my parents would allow me to join them outside in the snow...

Unnoticed, time went by; until, halfway through our cold winter, I finally celebrated my FIRST birthday, on March the third. Because our camp was very poor, certainly during such a cold winter when our grownups couldn't find any work to earn some money in the outside 'gadjo' world, no young kid ever got any expensive birthday presents. Fortunately, our parents always managed to create a special day for us. Thus, we young kids DID celebrate our birthdays, abundantly.

I had been living forward to my first birthday for several weeks in advance, by impatiently counting all the remaining days on both my fingers and toes, initially adding those of my chuckling parents and my Big Friend Michail. Fortunately, my Mom had already taught me counting my own ten fingers and ten toes that made twenty together. At last, I needed less and less extra fingers and toes, until I no longer needed to add those of any others. Now, only my own smallest finger remained to count the last day, so that I went to bed feeling full of anticipation. Tomorrow would be my First Birthday!

Alas, my so long-awaited First Birthday turned out to be a disaster, because I woke up with a nasty fever and felt awful. That morning, I crawled out of my bed, wavered towards my parents, and started to cry from disappointment. Why had my shivering body chosen exactly this day to make me ill and ruin my first Official Feast? While I was asleep, my parents had secretly decorated our living room with many beautifully colored balloons and festive festoons. However, I couldn't care less and only crawled in between my pile of colored pillows on our couch; coughing, shivering, and sniffling.

My Dad took me onto his lap, rubbed my upset stomach, and helped me blow my running nose. However, I asked him to lay me back in between my pillows on our couch, because my trembling body felt too dizzy and feverish. I even didn't want to taste my own nice looking birthday cake with one burning little candle, but only wanted to drink lots of water. In the meantime, my Mom had already left our caravan, to ask our Wise Woman for her professional advice. Soon, she returned into our caravan, followed by our rather tired looking Wise Woman.

The Wise Woman first felt my forehead, looked at my tongue, and then told my parents I had gotten a nasty flu. This week, I was the fourth child in a row that had gotten the same illness, and she was sure that soon many more kids would follow suit. Fortunately, all the sniffling kids would recover within no more than a week, and they would soon be their naughty selves again. She brought me some bitter tasting tea, helped me drink it, and then quickly trotted towards the next sniffling child that already needed her professional help.

Of course, our Wise Woman turned out to be right again, as usual. Within a week, the fever left me, so that I started to feel much better. Finally, I could really enjoy our still decorated living room! For the second time, my parents and several close friends congratulated me with my first birthday. I even got another delicious birthday cake that my Grandma had baked again, decorated with one burning candle. While everybody sang, "He is a jolly good fellow", I had to blow out my burning candle and then do my first 'secret birthday wish' for the upcoming year. Only, I just didn't know what to wish for, because I was only one year old and had never done such a thing before...

Feeling a little bit shy, I whispered into my Dad's ear:

"Sorry, Dad, but I am only a little Gypsy and never did such a thing before. Therefore, I just don't know what to wish for."

Fortunately, my wise Dad didn't laugh at me for being slow-witted, but he continued to look serious while he suggested:

"Well... Perhaps, you could wish for prosperity and an excellent health during your upcoming second year?"

Yesss! As usual, my wise Dad was offering me a marvelous idea! Feeling elated, I puckered my lips, blew out my burning candle, and silently wished for lots of prosperity and an excellent health during the upcoming year for ALL of us! Then, my Mom helped me cut my first piece of birthday cake, before she adeptly cut the rest. To make a long story short, my Grandma's birthday cake turned out to taste more than delicious.

That evening, after all my visitors had left our caravan and went home, I first helped my parents pop the colored balloons, remove the festoons, and tidy our living room and our kitchen, until everything in our caravan started looking 'normal' again. Now, I only had to wait for another year, until my second birthday showed up and I would become two years old. Therefore, I asked my Dad:

"Dad, could you please explain how many more fingers and toes I have to count until my second birthday shows up?"

"Of course! You have to count to three-hundred-and-fifty-eight; that is seventeen people's fingers and toes, and then eighteen more..."

Oops... Slumping down on our couch, I tried to imagine seventeen people sitting in a row on their wooden benches, while I walked along them and in the meantime counted all their fingers and toes, and then eighteen more... Obviously, until my second birthday showed up, I still had to wait for an extremely looooong time! Secretly chuckling inwardly, I asked my silently smirking Dad:

"Dad? Mom once taught me to count to twenty, but that is only my own ten fingers and ten toes. Therefore, could you please help me count all those extra fingers and toes from all those seventeen people, day after day during the upcoming year, until only my own twenty fingers and toes are remaining?"

Now smirking openly, at seeing the little fun lights that showed up in my sparkling bright blue eyes, my Dad responded:

"Well, I suppose I could better start teaching you counting beyond twenty! First, show me your ten fingers and ten toes, and then count them, one by one, until you reach twenty. Now, adding another finger counts number twenty-one."

Within less than ten minutes, my extremely bright 'brainiac brain' was already counting from one towards nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine, without making any errors, mostly due to my really excellent memory. Only summing up beyond one thousand was still too difficult for me. According to my Dad, I was a truly remarkable kid, although my tiny body was only one year and seven days old...