The books of Matthew describe the three magi from the east bringing baby Jesus 3 gifts: gold, Frankincense and myrrh upon his birth, thus predicting the new born future, a kingdom, priesthood, and a painful death.
The legend of the godmother fairies giving gifts to a new born is spread toward the entire world and also in Romania.
When a child is born, the parents and god parents present the child with few things, like a book, a pencil, a shiny piece of jewelry, a piece of cloth, etc.
The first item the child reaches for predicts his future profession, or way of life.
Well, nobody told me what I chose at my birth, or even if anybody kept the ritual, but the first memory I have as a child, less than 1 year old, is this:
My parents bought this grand house with tall ceilings ornate with stuccoes around the ceilings, and in top of the doors with big airy rooms and gleam hard wood floors. Outside it was a balcony with huge flowers, vases, and a glass canopy over the house entrance.
The house belonged to two sisters who gladly sold it, for they were dreaming of separate lives and quarters.
My first memory as a child was that my parents were negotiating to sell the house to somebody else’s for hard times were upon them and the country.
I understood what they were talking about, for I feared for my security and my shelter.
I was crawling on the floors and writing on the walls, scribbling all around the great room that was previously used as the ball room of the house.
Apparently the transaction fell as we remained in the house.
The winters in Romania are cold and the only heating sources were the tall ceramic stoves in the corner of each room. My father used to light a fire in the stoves every day, sometimes with wood logs, but more often with charcoal. It was always cold, especially in the great room up front.
So, in the winter we used to put the remaining food in the great room to keep it better preserved.
That was before the refrigerators time.
One day, I was in school by then, my teacher came to pay us a visit, to see how we live.
My parents were both teachers and we were home alone.
I remember she entered the big room upfront and there were plates with food (fried beans, my father’s favored) and different pots and pans around the room as the roof were leaking.
She did not say anything and left, and I remember how embarrassed I was.
It is true , the more you spend on something the more attach you became to it.
Over the years we spent a lot of money, time, and hard work to fix the old house and bring her back to her former glory; only to leave everything behind, and move to another part of the world.
I don’t regret it; I have fond memories of the old grandiose house in Romania.
Later on, I started to write, this time on paper, or my keyboard. I became a writer.
So, maybe there is something true about the old custom of godmothers and fairy tales.
For sure I did choose the pencil!
Rea-Silvia Costin, P.E. .2024
I have read about that grand house before. I can imagine its majesty during the time when it was well kept up and served many. Many who happily lived there before your time and your parent's hope for the same that didn't happen. A circumstance that can happen to anyone who falls under the threat of war or oppression. I wonder how your parents were able to find wood or charcoal for all of those heaters and food during those times when everything was scarce.
To think that when my twin brother and I were born In 1942. My 17-year-old mother and my 21-year-old father were living in a one room shack behind a barn, rented from a farmer a mile from town. The shack was probably heated by a potbellied wood or coal stove also used for cooking. But we didn't get sick until we moved into a drafty old farmhouse on the west edge of town at 4 when we contracted some serious childhood diseases.
Winner of two 2020 Royal Dragonfly Book Awards in the Ebooks Category:
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Picture Books Ages 6 and Older: Honorable Mention
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