A solution was found for the housing problems: a wooden temporary house on the yard of a neighbour of grandma and grandpa in Zeelst. Grandma and grandpa were the father and mother of my father and my father had lived in Zeelst since the time he had been born. They got a consent of the province Noord-Brabant to move in into it, and so they moved in with me into the little temporary house.
But new problems arrived. The municipality had promised the temporary house to one of the civil servants in the townhouse. My parents moved in, but the problem was that my father had not lived for more than a year in Zeelst. His name had been removed in the townhouse, and in the meantime he had become a "stranger" for the civil servants. And strangers were not allowed to live in the municipality and live in houses which were destined for the inhabitants of the village.
My mother often told me how one by one every policeman in the village came to tell hewr that she had to move from the little wooden house. But when she asked them to come in and they saw the beautiful big picture of my father on the sideboard they went away. They had to tell strangers to move, but my father was somebody they knew very well en his parents lived half a kilometer away from there. The echief policeman who came by was singing every Sunday morning with my father in the choir of the church. And everybody in the whole village then knew each other. And a stranger caught the eye that much, that he would be known also at once in Zeelst. But since a few decennia Zeelst was not an independant municipality anymore but belonged to the municipality of Veldhoven. And the townhouse was in the church village of Meerveldhoven.
The last person who came was the mayor himself. My mother did not know who he was when he came, but told him too that they could not leave, simply because they could not go anywhere. But the little house of wood was broken into pieces very soon then over their head to be rebuilt again somewhere else and the neighbour persuaded my mother in the evening to put her furniture and other things in the barn and not leave them outside. They could sleep that night in the bedroom of their little son, who could sleep for a while in the room of his sisters. The wooden house was rebuilt on the other side of the village for another family.
My parents always remained friends with this family Rombouts. I remember that I was often there toghether with my mother. It was quite a different time from now. It felt as if everybody was related to everybody. And everybody would help each other with everything.
In a little house on Cobbeek, not far from there, lived an old widow and she was a good aquaintance of my grandmother. Her house had been bombarded in the war and should be pulled down, but my parents had a roof over their head and they were very glad that they had a house of their own. And me, I knew nothing of all these things. I was a baby of a few months old and I did not have to worry about anything.
