The most memorable first day in Grade 1 for me, was that of my sister. I'll never forget it because it scared the daylights out of me. Although I wasn't directly involved, I expected the fallout from her undisciplined antics would result in lightning bolts, excommunication,or leprosy, or maybe all three, to be visited on our hapless family.
The year was 1946 and the setting was the cloakroom of our Catholic girls' school. The characters were the first-grade teacher, Sister Emmanuella, my mother, my sister, Mary Elizabeth, a group of little girls gathered around to see the new student, and me.
Sister Emanuella was a sturdy woman, dressed in the traditional habit of the Sisters of St. Joseph: long black dress, veil, and shoes with a white wimple around the neck. From the black cord around her waist hung a large wooden rosary. It reached almost to the floor and beads clunked against each other when she walked fast. She was a strict disciplinarian, and all the students (and parents) had a healthy respect for her.
Mother, (a recent convert from Presbyterianism) was a doting parent, and she might be forgiven for wiping away a tear or two as she handed over her youngest to this formidable personage. I had been in school two years already, so she would spending her future days in lonely solitude, or so she thought.
Mary Elizabeth (known as Lizard to family and friends) was a child of strong character. Since there was no Kindergarten in those days, this was her first experience with school. She took one look at Sister's deadpan countenance and decided she wanted none of it. She had enjoyed two years of Mother's undivided attention while I was in school. She did not want to give up that halcyon existence for an unknown environment with this menacing-looking creature.
Now Lizard was small and scrawny, but she was wiry. Mother had picked her up and tried to hand the kicking, screaming child over to Sister. Feeling Sister's firm hands around her, Lizard kicked even more vigorously. Sister held on tight, but she got very red in the face. The screams rose to a piercingly high pitch. The little girls put their hands over their ears and some of them started to cry.
Suddenly, there was a clunking sound of wood on wood. I looked in horror at the floor. Lizard had broken the rosary, and it hit the polished hardwood surface with a clatter. Sister's face was now scarlet and I'm not sure to this day whether it was from anger or exertion. There was suddenly silence. Even Lizard shut up.
I wasn't sure what would happen next. Lightning bolts were a distinct possibility, and excommunication for sure. Boy, was my dad ever going to be mad! We were always hearing about leprosy in Bible stories; maybe we'd all come down with that disease and have to live by ourselves outside the city like the early Jewish victims.
Sister unceremoniously plunked Lizard back on the floor. She asked me to pick up the beads. She told my mother that she really thought Mary Elizabeth wasn't ready for school yet. She suggested leaving her home for another a year. Lizard stopped howling. Mother agreed and escaped as quickly as possible, after having offered to pay to have the rosary repaired. Sister said that wasn't necessary. I suspected the angels would probably come in the night and fix it. Sure enough, next day it was as good as new!
The next September, when Lizard actually did start school, Sister Emanuella had been moved to another assignment in a different city. I guess the Lord had a special place in his heart for her.
Now, there are few Sisters left, and most of them dress in ordinary street clothes with only a cross around their neck to indicate their special status. I'm glad I had the advantage having had them as teachers, they were strict but fair. They honestly had the well-being of the children at heart, even those as difficult as Mary Elizabeth.
Oh, and nobody in our family ever did get leprosy, at least not yet.
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