My father was a farmer and I was most of the time with him. I sat on the horse when he was ploughing the fields. I hold the cow's tail when he was milking. Our farmhouse was located far from other children, so my brother and I played together. From a neighbour, we got old magazines with paper dolls. I drew and cut out clothes, from mail order catalogues, for my paper dolls. They all lived under a table with six chairs. There was a big patterned carpet that could be a beginning of houses, cities and landscapes where the paper families lived their lives. This world was mine but sometimes, someone would visit me and I shared my imaginary world. I lived with these dolls for weeks, and together we experienced many adventures.
When mom wanted to clean up, I became very angry. Once she had moved everything and vacuumed. I got completely insane; she had destroyed my world. My aunt Elsa, who also lived in our house, was very gentle. In the kitchen, I suddenly and surprisingly heard her speaking with my mom - with a firm tone - “play is children's work”. I had been understood by her and through her arguments, she claimed my right to have space for play. In this moment I felt confirmed that I could be just the human being as I was! It was a great feeling. From this moment, I know in my heart that I - and everyone else - have the human right to have our own mental space, imagination and the right to play. That still helps me!