- Harry AnderS -
Dutch psychotherapist and alternative writer

'Born to be a King 1'
Book 1 - My little Gypsy Prince
- by Harry AnderS -

An inspirational fantasy

http://www.harryanders.com
harry@harryanders.com

     A retired psychotherapist meets a severely burnt little Gypsy boy, and takes him into his house. The boy turns out to be the Heir to the Throne.
This emotional roller coaster hints at past lives, spirit helpers, karma, the Power of Love, and contains several practical psychological concepts.
'Harry AnderS' is a retired Dutch psychotherapist and writer. He lives in The Netherlands; and is specialized in supporting troubled children.
    Please, also read his beautiful children's series of books, called 'Born as a Prince', written from the little Gypsy boy's own point of view!

Chapter 26 ended with:

    I told the boys the good news; and they cheered and danced around the room, hugging each other and me.

    Fifty minutes later, the phone rang again.
A nurse told me that the doctors had finished the surgery, and taken little Harry to his room.
Everything had gone very well, and they would phone me again soon...

    I slumped down onto our couch, and started to cry from the built-up tension.
Immediately, my three friends surrounded me and tried to comfort me.
    I could clearly feel Jack, pushing me to let myself go:

    "Don't bottle it up! In a few minutes, you will feel better..."

    I cried until I was exhausted; but now I felt happier than ever.
I hugged my helpful friends, and gratefully thanked Jack in my mind.
A heavy burden was lifted off my shoulders, and I felt like new.
Suddenly, I started to laugh about the comical situation.
I, a grown-up psychotherapist, had to be comforted by three small children, who tried to bury me under a wagonload of tissues...

Chapter 27. An amusement park, a strange dream, and my boy's new face.

    I went to the kitchen, to wash my face and throw away the used tissues.
When I returned, the boys were putting their heads together and whispering.
After a minute, they seemed to have reached an agreement, and spread out.
    They looked at me with craving puppy-dog eyes, and John approached me:

    "Dad, did you know there is a nice amusement park, half an hour from here?"

    I grinned, and ruffled his hair:

    "No, I didn't know. What are you trying to tell me?"

    "Ahh, DAD... You KNOW what we want; to 'relieve our built-up tension' as you are always saying..."

    I smiled, nodded my head, and their cheering was raising the roof!
I was sure they could use some relief; and little Harry wouldn't mind at all...
To be honest, I could still use some tension relief myself as well.
I told them to ask their parents first, and they dived for their shoes.
They raced home, to tell their parents the good news about Harry and ask permission.

    Five minutes later, they were back and bolted into our van.
I told them to buckle up, and went back to get my keys and my wallet.
We drove off, and now we were on our way to the amusement park...
John scanned our car stereo; and soon some nice background music came out of the surround speakers.

    After the initial enthusiasm, the boys slowly became more and more silent.
They looked at each other and at me furtively, and now and then one of them sighed.
Finally, they couldn't hold up their concern any longer...
    Nicky got up, leaned onto my seat, and threw his arms around my neck:

    "Pop, I'm missing Harry... It is no fun to go out without him. Can't we turn around and go home?"

    John got up and replaced Nicky:

    "Sorry, Dad. We didn't think when we decided to ask you about that park. What do you think, shall we go home?"

    I looked at Davey, and he seemed to be rather sad as well...
I turned our van into a parking clearing along the road, and stopped.
    I looked for the appropriate handle, found it, and turned my seat around to face them:

    "What do you think... Will hanging around the house and being sad HELP Harry?"

    For a moment, they were silent...
Then, three heads with pensive faces slowly shook no.

    "Suppose we would be able to contact Harry now... What do you think he would say about us having some fun in an amusement park without him?"

    John's face lit up, and he looked at me with sudden understanding in his eyes.
Davey needed a bit more time; until he nodded and smiled too.
    Nicky thought aloud:

    "I am sure Harry would say: Have lots of fun, and next time I want to join you!"

    "Yes, and that's exactly what I want us to do. Let's have a lot of fun, write a letter to Harry about what we did, and promise him to do it again once he is able to join us. Okay?"

    John looked at me with reverence in his deep brown eyes:

    "I'm always amazed about how you are doing that, making us feel good with only a few words. I want to learn how to do that too!"

    We drove off again, feeling relieved and humming along with the music from our hifi surround system.

    John and Davey directed me to the amusement park, and soon I parked our van in a muddy yard amidst a lot of other vehicles.
I went to a ticket window, paid, and got four tickets.
The gatekeeper snapped a notch into each of them, and we were in.

    At first, we strolled around, and had a good look at all those amusement spectacles.
The boys wanted to have a ride in a big merry-go-round; and, of course, I had to pay for them.
They tried to press me to join them, but I didn't want to be dizzy for the remainder of the day...

    "Pop, you are becoming OLD! Come on, don't spoil the fun..."

    I smiled, and shook 'no' again.
A moment later, Nicky jumped onto the twirling thing and joined John and Davey, shouting every time they passed by.
They left it even before it had stopped, and went to the next spectacle...

    "Dad, NOW you are joining us! You, with your driver's license, against us without one..."

    I wriggled myself into one of those small electric cars, and waited until the power got switched on...
A moment later, John bumped into me from behind, Davey pushed my car aside, and Nicky yelled and tried to shove me off the track.
I whirled around; and, for a moment, I didn't know where I was...
NOW, I knew why they had called this an 'amusement' park!
I straightened my back, took the steering wheel, and glared around...

    For the next fifteen minutes, I had FUN.
We were three to one, but I had my driver's license!
Every three minutes, I paid for another round, and we went on and on.
Of course, my boys slaughtered me and pushed my car across the track as if it were a dinky toy...
They yelled and laughed; but, now and then, I could have my revenge and bump into one of them with all my force.
Those bumps made my day, and I wished I could do that on the real road now and then...

    Finally, the boys got bored and I got tired.
We left the cars, and sauntered towards sort of a fishing machine with lots of small cranes.
I had never seen them before, and looked with amazement at all those little knickknacks in the sawdust.
The boys tried and tried, until suddenly Davey uttered a loud Indian howl...
He had caught one of the small gewgaws with his little crane, and triumphantly showed it around.
We complimented him with his handiness, and went on.

    Suddenly, Nicky nudged me and pointed to an abundantly ornate caravan:

    "POP! Isn't that a GYPSY caravan? Come on, let's have a look!"

    They ran towards it and tried to peek inside, but the caravan turned out to be empty.

    "It's a pity Harry isn't here! HE would have known what sort of a caravan it is..."

    Next, they detected a fort built out of wooden boards, and ran towards it.
Many children were busy around it, carrying more boards and swaying with hammers.
They decided to join the hammering and sawing other children, until it was time to go home.
Exhausted, but satisfied, we left the playground and strolled back to our van.

On our way home, we stopped at a small roadside restaurant.
We wolfed down lots of delicious fattening junk food, and drank gallons of carbonated colored sugar water.
Each of us wrote little Harry a postcard, with our best wishes and lots of little hearts on it.
They promised each other solemnly to repeat this day the very moment their friend would be home again!

    The remaining days passed by rather uneventfully.
Every day, I phoned the clinic, and they told me that all was well with my boy.
He was still in a deep sleep, and we had to wait until his bandages could be removed for the first time.
His vital functions indicated a fast recovery, and that was a very positive sign.
They would contact me the very moment they had any more news.

The boys visited me every day; and always immediately asked for any news about little Harry.
They told me they missed him badly, and Nicky was a bit nervous about his special present. Would Harry like it?
Now and then, they wanted to spend the night at my house...
It was a bit squeezed, but all of us DID fit together in my waterbed.

    One day, I was asking myself why it was ME who had to raise my adopted son; and not his own parents...
I knew we had known each other in at least two past lives; once as my own son, and once as my very best friend and deputy leader.
However; I could feel, deep inside my heart, that there had to be more, much more!
Why was little Harry burnt so badly, and why did his parents die and only he survived the fire?
Why did I have to deal with TWO burnt little boys in my life; my own brother, and my soul mate?
Why me...

    That night, I had a very strange dream.
I had two sons and one daughter; all of them were grown up, and none of them were married.
They had a very close friend; and our foursome was always together, debating about how to better our world and how to earn a good place in Heaven...
Every Sunday, we went to our Holy Church, wearing tall black gowns that even covered our feet.
My youngest son always climbed the pulpit, and told the congregation about Hell and Damnation.
I knew he HAD a lot of love in his heart; but, in this life, his eyes were dark and showed a fanatic zealot...
In his zeal to earn an even better reward after this life, he had totally forgotten who he was; and his beautiful soul had been stifled.

    All of them believed strongly in a Supreme Being called 'God', that wanted us to be totally obedient and submissive.
Two-thousand years ago, He had written a book called 'Bible' that told us how to behave, and since then we had to live according to His Word.
People that didn't believe in Him were damned, and would burn in Hell for all eternity.
People that pleased him would go to Heaven; where they could eat from golden platters, play on little harps, and sing psalms in front of His Countenance for all eternity...

    All the time, our foursome tried to convince all the others of our Belief, hoping to earn a more prominent place in Heaven.
Our God seemed to be displeased by everybody that was not a Believer; and He had chosen them, His Elected People, to convince the others of their Sins.
They used all available means to convince others, even when that meant the others had to sacrifice their mortal bodies; believing they could thus save their Souls from burning in Hell.
Our God was especially displeased by people that thought they were more important than He was, and could cross His Intentions by healing people other than by Praying.
Those people were devoted to Satan, Gods ultimate enemy, looking like a goat and being fond of the darkness and of black cats.
Those men, called 'Heathens', were tortured and hung on gallows, while those women were called 'Witches' and burnt to death.
All four of them prayed for the Salvation of the deviated Heathens and Witches, until their Souls left their bodies and thus were saved from burning in all eternity...
Their bodies were gone, but their Souls were saved; and thus our foursome had again pleased their God some more...

    I didn't like the hangings and witch burnings at all, but didn't dare to revolt.
What if they would think I was a Heathen as well? They would hang me immediately, to please their God and save my Soul...
Many times, I tried to convince them of their fallacies; but they were too indoctrinated by what they thought had to be Gods Holy Intention.
They WANTED to earn that special place, once, after their deaths, jubilantly sitting on the Right Side of God's Throne...

    Finally, all of us died; and we expected to go to Heaven, to play on our little harps...
NOT!
We met each other in what we once called the 'Purgatory', and had to look back at our lives and at what we had done with our Powers.
Our initial intentions had been good: all of us wanted to develop more Love in our hearts by HELPING other people with their frustrations.
However, instead of helping others, we had been too concerned about our own welfare; and thus we had forgotten our intentions...
Now, we had to go back to the Earth; to make up for what we had done to others, according to the Law of Karma.
God's Holy Word had already been spoken to us, in very clear Bible words: "I say to you, unless one is born anew, he cannot see the kingdom of God..."
Why had we been so blind to seeing...

    My oldest son became the uncrowned King and Leader of all the Gypsy people on Earth.
He and my daughter met each other in a foreign country, and they married.
My youngest son descended to the Earth as their only child and little Heir to the Throne.
Their best friend and I grew up as brothers, until I was fourteen years old and he was eight.
Then, the Law of Karma started to work: "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth..."
My foursome had to know how the burning feels; not as a punishment, but to help them develop more compassion for their victims.

    I woke up, and couldn't forget my strange dream.
There WAS kind of logic in it, about having to undergo the same things you once did to others...
Of course, it had been only a very strange dream...

    Five days later, halfway through the evening, my phone rang.
The clinic receptionist asked me to wait, and put me through to our 'face doctor'...
The doctor told me he had removed little Harry's bandages for the first time, and performed a couple of tests.
He was astonished by the healing progress, and told me he had never seen anybody healing that fast.
He even thought our little friend would be ready to wake up halfway through the next day!
I thanked him abundantly, and promised to be there.

    The boys begged me to take them to the clinic, but I told them that wouldn't be a wise decision.
Little Harry would be very groggy, and he would probably be attached to a couple of nasty-looking machines for another couple of days.
He had to recover during the next fourteen days, and had to be calm and not too tired...
Besides, they had to go to school the next day!
Fortunately, the boys understood why they couldn't skip school, and didn't ask me any more.
Together, they drew a nice picture; showing three sad boys, waiting for their missing fourth friend...

    The next morning, I drove to the clinic, to spend the next two weeks with my son.
John, Davey, and Nicky asked me to give Harry a very big hug from all of them.
I promised, and neatly wrapped their picture into a coil.
They waved me out, until I disappeared around a corner.

    Two hours later, I parked our van in the same parking slot as before... Was that a good sign?
In a cheerful mood, I entered the clinic, happy to be able to see my little soul mate again.
How would his new face look? Would I recognize him?
The receptionist greeted me, and told me that all was well.
The doctor would soon wake the little boy up, and remove his bandages.

    A nurse accompanied me to little Harry's room, and opened the door to let me in.
I had prepared myself for all sorts of beeping and flashing equipment, and lots of colored wires attached to my son.
However, all I saw was a motionless white and silent little mummy...
I nearly fainted, and the room started to whirl around.
In a flash, I saw myself back, being fourteen years old, visiting Joshie in the hospital where they desperately tried to save his life...
My little brother had been bandaged too, looking exactly the same way...

    I had to sit down, shuddered, and started to tremble all over.
The worried nurse offered me a glass of water, and called a doctor.
Ten seconds later, our 'face doctor' hurried into the room with panic in his eyes...
He immediately went to the stretcher, and looked little Harry over from top to toe.
Then, he slowly turned towards me, with a questioning face...
Fortunately, I was already recovering from my shock. I excused myself, and told him my story about my own burnt little brother.
He was very understanding; and offered me a mild sedative, but I thought I didn't need it any more.

    "Are you sure? Well... you are a professional yourself, so you ought to know what's good for you. I have to go back to my patients now, but I will be back here after the nurse has removed your son's bandages. Do you want to assist her, or does she have to wait for the second nurse? I could use our second one somewhere else..."

    "Of course, I want to assist her, although it is not my profession. Do I have to wear a gown and a mouthpiece?"

    "That will not be necessary, as all your son's wounds will be nicely healed by now. I only advise you to wash your hands with our disinfecting soap."

    The doctor left our room, after instructing the nurse to call him when the boy was ready.

    After a couple of deep breaths, I regained my composure and rose from my chair.
I went to the stretcher, where my little soul mate was wrapped up in white bandages from top to toe.
I could only see a small part of his slightly bruised face, and that part looked peaceful and at ease.
There were no nasty machines around, and I saw only two small plastic tubes.
One tube went up to a bag of some clear fluid, and the other went down from his small penis to a yellowish bag hanging from the side of his stretcher.

    I went to the small sink, and carefully scrubbed my hands with disinfectant soap.
I dried them, using a box of clinical paper towels, and returned to the stretcher.
The nurse had already started to peal the bandages off little Harry's face.
I helped her; and, bit by bit, his bruised and puffy face showed up, with swollen eyes and a big red and blue nose.
I was happy to be able to see him now, before he was awake and could see my shocked face...

    We threw the bandages into a hamper, and started to unwrap the rest of his body.
Slowly, I could see the wonderful job the surgeons had done.
Gone were all the colored stripes and scars.
Underneath the bruises, I could clearly see that he had a nice smooth skin on his body.
Even his little pecker looked normal, with a plastic tube in it to drain his urine.

    Finally, he was naked, and the nurse went to the intercom and called the doctor.
After two minutes, our doctor arrived and carefully looked my newborn son over from top to toe...
    All the time, he was shaking his head and mumbling:

    "It's unbelievable. Look at how he has healed! I am very surprised..."

    At last, he was satisfied; and told me that my boy was absolutely ready to wake up.
He removed the intravenous needle from his arm; and the plastic tube from his little pecker.
He administered an injection into a vein in his arm; and, after a few seconds, little Harry's swollen eyes started to blink.
Slowly, he tried to open them and look around.
He sighed a couple of times, and started to move...

    "Easy, son, slowly, just relax. Don't try to move, just wake up very slowly. I will help you, and you are safe."

    His swollen eyes opened some more, and he squinted at me.
He tried to talk, but no sound came out; and I could feel his frustration...

    "Shush, don't talk; just give yourself some more time. Your operation is done, and everything went well. Just wake up slowly, and don't try to do anything."

    He nodded trustingly, and relaxed a bit.
Suddenly, he coughed, and spat out some slimy fluid into a cup the nurse held under his chin.

    "Do... cough... do I have... cough... do I have... my new face now?"

    "Yes, son, you do have your new face now. But take it easy, because you will have to recover first."

    He nodded again, and closed his swollen eyes.
We waited patiently; until he was a bit more alert, tried to sit upright, and asked for water.
    A broad smile appeared on the doctor's face:

    "This is a good sign. Try to let him drink half a glass of water. I will also order some porridge, which is easy to digest. Try to let him eat no more than a few spoonfuls at a time...
    "He will be very tired; and he needs a lot of extra sleep. Tomorrow, we will perform some more tests on his transplanted skin; but, so far, he has behaved marvelously."

    The nurse rolled him onto a sheet, lowered the stretcher, and together we shoved him onto his own bed.
He offered us a broad smile, and tried to stretch out as far as he could.
The doctor stroked his hair, very careful not to move his head too much, and went away.
The nurse rolled the stretcher out of the room, and promised us to be back within a few minutes.

    Soon, she brought us a tray with a bowl of porridge and a glass of mineral water.
She tried to help him sit upright, but that seemed to cause him some discomfort.
She handed me the glass of water; and I let him drink, slowly and not too much at once.
He tried to eat a spoonful of porridge, but his arms started to hurt and he let the spoon slip.
I took over, and tenderly fed him a mouthful.
    He looked at me, and grinned impishly:

    "Dad, today I am your baby, and you have to feed and pamper me."

    "You will always be my special baby, and I LOVE to pamper you!"

     Yes, I know. I am very tired, and my body feels like it is bruised everywhere. Do you have a mirror?"

    "Do you really want to look at your face now? You know it's still very puffy and bruised..."

    "I know how it is, Dad, from my other operations. Please, can I have a look? I want to know how my new face looks."

    With some hesitancy, I handed him a small hand mirror.
He took it into both hands, and studied his face for a long time.
    He seemed to be very satisfied with what he saw:

    "The face doctor did a wonderful job, Dad... I can see that I'm having a very nice nose now, and the swelling will go away within a few weeks. It's a funny pug nose, just as the doctor promised...
    "My lips are straight and normal now, just as I wanted to have them. They are still a bit swollen and puffy, but that will go away...
    "My right ear is free now, and the doctor even mended my eyelids so that they are closing better... All those nasty colors have disappeared, and the wild flesh and scars are gone...
    "I am really happy with my new face. Thank you, Dad, thank you so much! I love you..."

    He started to sob; and I held him close, very careful not to hurt his bruises.
I took my handkerchief, and carefully dried his eyes.
    Now, he started to yawn, and the mirror slipped out of his hands:

    "I am really tired, Dad. I think your baby will have some more sleep..."

He tried to throw his small arms around my neck, but was just too tired...
I kissed his forehead; and he drifted off, showing a happy smile on his puffy face.
I sat down next to him; and watched him for a long time, marveling at the good work the surgeons had done.
He was my beautiful little soul mate, with finally a nicely restored face and a normal skin on his body...

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Thank you for reading the next chapter of this story 'Born to be a King 1 - My little Gypsy Prince.
This is the FIRST book of the adult series. Many more books will follow, just be patient...
Enjoy the reading, and help us make our world a better place. We need you!

Please, have a look at my children's series, about the same little Gypsy boy growing up in a secluded place in the Rumanian mountains; this time seen from his own point of view.
The children's story is on Nifty in 'young-friends', and it's callled: 'Born as a Prince'...

Just click this link to go to Nifty, or go to my homepage to read the latest versions.

I would LOVE to receive your comments or appreciations...
Please, send me an email now and then, to let me know the story has some impact on you.

I wish you lots of Love in your Life, and Profound Peace in your Heart.
Harry AnderS, Dutch psychotherapist and alternative writer.

harry@harryanders.com
http://www.harryanders.com