As a child, three dimensions
encompassed my world. The first dimension was the plum tree, the
center of my universe. The second dimension: life inside the house.
And the third dimension involved my minor travels to the world
outside. I usually went to the bar on the corner, to fetch beer
and schnapps for Ciocia or to Hamburg Harbor, a short distance
away.
Until I went to school, at the age of nine, my only human companions
were Ciocia, Schwardrofskie and my mother. We spoke Polish, not
German, which isolated us from the rest of the community.
In the first dimension,
I dwelled in Ciocia’s garden with the horses, chickens, and
ducks. I climbed the tree and crawled from branch to branch like
a green monkey. From the plum tree, I understood everything, saw
everything. Below me, animal and plant life flourished.
Behind me, Ciocia and Schwardrofskie lived in their gingerbread-style
house. Beyond lay Hamburg, with the busiest harbor in Germany,
and a bustling ship building industry. Ships and small boats came
and then left for everywhere. Steepled, brown, rock buildings
jagged the view of sailing ships adventuring out to sea.
I could see people from near and far, bands playing, and men,
with rolled, up loose-fitting pants talking to each other. I saw
prostitutes hanging their clothes to dry, outside the windows
from one brown building to the next.
As I looked below, life
in the garden teamed. Nellie, the dog, rushed out of the house
to say, "Hello," or to call me in for lunch. The horse
acknowledged me as a co-inhabitant squinting his eyes at me, whinnying,
and fanning his tail. Baby, the goose, honked and splashed in
a bucket of water. Not one animal ran from me. In Ciocia’s
garden, I felt part of everything living, close to the vital spirit
of life.
"It’s time to eat, Synek," Ciocia called out the
back door. The ducks and chickens fluttered, in time with her
sing-song voice. Before I knew myself with any name at all, Ciocia
referred to me as "Synek," her word for "Sonny
Boy."
Meanwhile, I hugged the plum tree as if it were the author of
my creation. A dark thunder rumbled:
