I gave my mother a hard time with my tantrums (only during my childhood – Infinite Laughs). During that time we were living in Lipova, my birth city. My parents rented part of a house owned by an elderly couple – Mr.and Mrs. Matica – who adored my parents like their own children and treated me like their granddaughter. Everything seemed monumental in that house, especially the old-style kitchen where I enjoyed spending time “helping” Mrs. Matica.
One day, my mother and I went to the city center where I spotted an African doll in the toy shop window. I was fascinated and I asked my mom to buy me the doll. When she refused, I declared that I wouldn’t go home unless she purchased it for me. Unyielding, my mother walked away, leaving me seated on the stairs in front of the shop as advised by Mrs. Matica on how to handle my tantrums. I continued to cry on the stairs until I realized she was truly leaving me behind. Hurriedly, I reached out, grabbed her hand, and we made our way home without any further incidents.
My mother recounted the episode to Mrs. Matica. Taking action, Mrs. Matica took me and made me sit up on a small chair, in the middle of the kitchen. I felt like a queen presiding over the kitchen, unaware that it was more of a judgment seat. Mrs. Matica sat opposite me and delivered a speech. Although I can recall only bits of it, mostly images, I remember her asking me, “Aren’t you ashamed to behave like this with your mother?” I didn’t say a word, but not because I was ashamed; I was honored that she took me seriously and spoke to me as an adult. Later on, Mr. Matica secretly bought me the doll. Infinite Love.