The love for my homeland has been within me, particularly emphasized since my earliest childhood. I have an unforgettable and painful memory when, at the age of fourteen (1931), I had to move from Novi Bečej to Zrenjanin (then Veliki Bečkerek) for my education. There, I lived with my sister and three other students, slightly older than me.
The first day of separation from home, from Novi Bečej, and all that was dear, somehow passed peacefully. However, when I lay down in the evening, much later than I did in my parental home, the night stretched on and became endless. I believe I had never experienced a longer night until then, or since. I tossed and turned in bed, got up several times to drink water, but sleep eluded me. Thoughts of the farm, where I grew up with my parents, of the Tisa River, of Gradište, of the places where I spent the most beautiful and unforgettable days of my youth, lingered until morning. I didn't close my eyes until dawn.