When Heroes Cry!
SNOW, SCHOOL, FLAGS, AND WINE!
As the years passed and I began school, warm clothing
and shoes were scarce. Winters were bitterly cold.
When the first soft snow fell, it was customary for us to
baptise and wash each other with the fresh snow, a tradition
believed by the elders to ward off flu and pneumonia.
The school was only a few streets from our house in Budaörs.
Each morning, we ran to school to keep warm and escape
the freezing temperatures. During winter, children had to
cut wood for the state every afternoon. We were allowed to
take a piece or two home and had to bring some to school
the next day. This wood served as our ticket to stand near
the classroom fireplace. Those who did not bring wood were
not allowed near the fire and were left in their own corner,
trembling from the cold.
One early morning before school, my father asked me to
fetch wine from the barrel hidden in the stable, a task usually
reserved for one of my older brothers. He produced his own
wine using grapes from his small vineyard. We all took part
in the harvest, cutting grapes and placing them into the
wooden crate carried on my father’s back. The grapes were
then transferred to a large open wooden container. Following
tradition, we would all jump in and flatten the first batch
of grapes with our feet, which was always enjoyable and a
lot of fun. The rest of the harvest was processed through a
large wooden press, and the resulting mixture was placed in
massive open wooden barrels.
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When Heroes Cry!
After fermentation, the wine was filtered approximately
three times into different barrels until my father was satisfied
with its colour and taste, a process that lasted three to four
weeks. The wine was then transferred to 200- and 300-litre
oak barrels for maturation. Each year, the communist
government claimed fifty per cent of the harvest. To ensure
he kept some wine for winter, my father hid one barrel in
our stable, covering it with hay. On cold mornings, he would
warm wine mixed with sugar as a substitute for coffee. A
self-made pipette was used to extract the wine from the
barrel. On this particular morning, I filled the pipette and,
before filling his jug, took several long, eager sips myself.
After giving him his wine, I grabbed my school bag and ran
to school, feeling happy, warm, and ready to face the day
and seize the world. Upon entering the classroom, I forgot
about the two steps at the door and fell face down with my
nose between my teacher’s pretty feet. The class burst into
laughter, clearly enjoying the spectacle. My teacher, visibly
shocked, tried to help me up, but her eyes nearly popped out
of her head when she smelled my breath. To make matters
worse, I accidentally stepped on her toe with my bulky boots...