Few weeks later there we were.  In the Hungarian Hill resort.  Kids from all over Poland were at this winter camp.  The snow outside covered everything with a twelve-inch layer.  It was quiet.  The air was clean.  I quickly realized why such vacation camps existed.  It was to give us, kids a break from the pollution of the cities.  Nearly every kid’s father worked at a coal mine.  And every coal mine produced thick smog that covered the city like a blanket.  Back home the snow was probably black and grey from the soot.  And here, in Hungarian Hill the snow was brilliant white.

All kinds of activities filled every day.  Walking around the surroundings when weather permitted, we played sports in the indoor arena, and we played board games in the library.  I managed to win a bronze medal in checkers.

With the medal around my neck, like some champion, the end of the vacation arrived and we went back to our cities in buses.  I was terrified of buses.  The smell of the tires and the warmth made me nauseous.  Ten minutes into the ride I got up and approached the driver.  He was upset about being disturbed while driving, but I had no choice.  I wanted him to pull over so that I could step off the bus and vomit.  “Could you stop?  I need to…”  I spun around, grabbed a hold of the rails and with a loud bang vomited right on the steps while the bus was still moving.  Ashamed, completely defeated, I walked back to my seat.  The driver said something but I didn’t hear him.  I didn’t care—it was done.  He should have listened to me.  The scent of the vomit remained with me.  No one would sit next to me now.

And as I sat there I could hear other kids giggle and spread the news throughout the bus.  “Irek just threw up.”  “Inside the bus!”  “No!  Really?”  “Can you smell it?”  “I can smell it.”  “Yuck!”  And right then and there someone sat next to me.  I turned my head.  It was Kasia.  She got closer and gave me a hug.  It made it so much better.  I quickly swallowed the remaining chunks still in my mouth.  I wanted to say something to her but I didn’t want her to smell the vomit on my breath.  “Kasia.”  “What?”  “Thank you.”  She smiled and got even closer.  The boys and girls in other seats fell silent.  It was a beautiful gesture.  Kasia was the prettiest girl in the camp and every boy wished he was in my place, vomit or no vomit.

We both fell asleep and didn’t wake up until the bus reached the destination.  Kasia ran to her parents and I ran to mine.  Even though I was separated from my parents for only two weeks I cried.  They were tears of joy.  I was happy to be back with my parents.  I showed them my medal and made them very proud.

(End of excerpts)