My Granddaughter

I marvelled at the little sleeping face, so troubled before my story. The hand lost in mine was now relaxed as she dreamed of the fairy coaches drawn by magical dragon flies.

The weight of the world had been on her mind. So young to be asking why a man would beat his wife and then turn on his children; why some people die in an earthquake and some survive through sheer miracles. She has not been a beaten child, rather the opposite; but the effect on her is the same as if she had. She plays music to soothe the world and is hurt when yet another disaster or tragedy takes place. As she grows so does her passion for her music; it becomes her solace. Like a tiny seed she stretches out her roots for sustenance and her place in the world; her leaves are tempted out of their casing to explore and the flower is forming to blossom all too soon for me - but not for her.   

On Private School Education

Yes, we were privileged. We had great places to go in the holidays and some weekends. There was always an end in sight, relief from the drudgery, excursions to go on, activities at school, musical choral evenings, prayer meetings, church. My education flourished in areas other than academic.

In retrospect, I am amazed that parents from such wealthy and luxurious background put their children into such institutions. It is designed to teach great lessons for them to carry forth into life. Austerity, servitude and humility may indeed be valuable tools to carry forth but stark conditions, bulky food and suppression of the spirit can be supplied to children by many institutions, but these parents do so by choice and pay top fees for it and expect gratitude for the sentence. 

April

April

Why the three of them were wandering the streets and not at home she could not recall. April was aged 5 and Ellen her older sister aged 8. George their baby brother was aged 2. They were walking down the cobblestone street towards the market stalls when Ellen shoved George into April's arms and told her to 'make herself scarce'. When April returned she saw Ellen grab several pieces of fruit from the fruit stall; she then threw them into the large front pocket of April's apron and told her to take George and run and hide.

April always did as she was told; George was heavy as she tried to carry him and the pocket full of stolen fruit. She didn't know where to hide so she just kept moving along the street as fast as she could. She managed to hide for a few minutes under a fallen awning in a side street; but then the lady with the straw broom whacked her with the handle and told her to hurry along. As she turned the corner looking for another hiding place a policeman grabbed her. She struggled and squirmed but he had her firmly by the hair; with his other hand he wrenched George out of her grip and tucked him under his arm like a newspaper.

The black 'paddy wagon' arrived at the curb. Another policeman took George and hurled him in the back, April was tossed in next, the doors were locked. Out of the dark April heard a string of obscenities and then Ellen yelled at her “Why didn't you hide – dummy?” April looked around her, now that her eyes had become accustomed to the dim light she could see two benches ran down the sides , Ellen was sitting on one of the seats nursing a bruise developing on her left cheek. Tears had washed some of the dirt into swirls on her face. April opened her mouth to reply but received a slap on her face and decided against it. Ellen, when angry was not easy to deal with. George tried to cuddle up to Ellen but she pushed him back to April “Keep him quiet” she hissed “see if you can do that right”

“George is always quiet” April thought as she looked at him and put her arms around him to stop him crying. The van started up and moved slowly down the cobble stoned street. It came to a stop outside the police station and both policemen went inside leaving them in the hot and stinking van.

* * * * *

April had not been given any education or opportunities in the “Girls Home” of the 1930's. Any dreams she may have had died with her 2 year old brother. She was not encouraged to do anything with her life other than clean other peoples houses and have children – seven of them in all. Now, 40 years on, she waited, excited and nervous; this was a special visitor.