Part 3 translation starts at 00.33.20
Tamás Vekerdy, psychologist: He was an absolute phenomenon and he was mesmerizing, he mesmerized me, and the children mesmerized me as well. I had been observing at the Institute for extended periods, for days on end. Everything that happened there, the way the children spoke, for example a 4.5-year-old who couldn't speak before at all and uttered his first words there at Pető. He told us what it was like when he was laying on an operating table with appendicitis and everybody was talking around him about how it would be much better for him to die, “it would benefit him since he’s a cripple”. He could understand this all and when he could finally speak thanks to Pető’s movement therapy—because movement brings speech with it—he told us what he went through in his earlier life. These children were mesmerizing; they were holding down one of their hands with the other to control them so that they could tell us what they wanted to say. They were writing poems, some of them were excellent mathematicians and this whole cleverness that there would be a school there—that one of the disabled children would be the librarian there as an adult, another one a teacher—was made up by him and brought together by him through paragraphs and law and other mazes with the help of genius and selfless colleagues for example Dr. Hári.
Sándor Török (Hungarian writer, 1904-1985): “I would’ve loved a little garden” /excerpt from his autobiographical novel/: "I visited one of the programs of the 9-10 year-olds’ once. This one was an academic class. However, it came to that the children started writing poems. They were writing the rhymes on papers kept down with their twitching hands far away from their eyes, with spastic muscles and with glorious smiles on their faces—all about motion. About rippling lakes, racing mountain creeks, rabbits grazing on a flowery meadow, passing clouds; and I was the witness of the Institute’s head professor starting his overnight vigil all for them."