A Halloween Miracle, by Peggy Knorr

On receiving photos of my two out-of-state great-grand children, Logan and Kailey, in their Halloween costumes and hearing they would be wearing their finery in the school parade, I wondered if that event would be conducted in the same manner as it was in my daughter's (their Grandma's) childhood days, 56 years earlier. At that far off time, while the kids were excitedly hopping around showing off their fanciful apparel, the teachers were standing by, busily judging which costume was the "best."

Patsy, my daughter, was about 8 years old at the time, and we were living in East Los Angeles, (a very poor neighborhood.) She wanted to be "an old fashioned lady" so I shopped the Goodwill, and at very little expense, using my resourcefulness and skill, picked out likely pieces and sewed them into a nice little hooped skirted costume.

I had no idea that there was to be a judging of best costume. I was surprised and a little disturbed when I realized they were conducting the parade as a competition. One of my neighbors, afterwards, said Pat's costume clearly should have won first prize, which it didn't; even though it stood out from the circle of kids as a gem of color, it didn't even place! I have a feeling that the school thought I had purchased an expensive costume and that it was not fair competition against what the poor people of the neighborhood could afford. Actually, for the most part they were no more "poor" than we ourselves were!

I have always found competition in that sort of setting a little distasteful; a reward for work well done is one thing, but a prize for something to which the child probably had not contributed much, was another. I felt the concept of being judged "best" versus that of "never winning anything" often started lifelong patterns of negative character formation. I knew this from my own still remembered sensitive and vulnerable childhood feelings. How much better it would have been if the kids could have just partaken of the fun of an unusual event without any aspersions as to who "won" and who "didn't."

Pat's classroom teacher, though, told me how she had noticed a complete change in her posture when she arrived at school wearing her costume that morning. From a slumped, uninterested bearing, it had changed to one of poise and pride in herself. She was holding herself up tall, regally and proudly, actually becoming the imaginary personality which she was portraying.

I think that was a turning point for her in her feelings of self esteem and confidence which grew from then onwards. It didn't seem to matter to her that she hadn't won a prize, though in the end she did get one, but in a different form than any competition could have ever brought about. I am hoping Logan and Kailey will receive as much from their associations with costumes as their Grandma did those many years ago.

Elementary School, by Nora Szechy

While I had an intense desire to learn, I hated school. I attended Goldenbridge Convent School in Dublin, Ireland. It was an all-girl school run by The Sisters of Mercy.  Some of the sisters were kind and others were mean to the point of cruelty.  We were caned if were late, if we talked, if we laughed or if we didn't know our lessons.  We were ruled by fear. 

There was no use complaining at home as my mother always sided with the nuns.  Classes were overcrowded and had an average of 50 students.  We walked to school in the rain and sat in wet clothes all day.  There was no place to hang wet coats.  The main source of heat was a small turf-burning fireplace.

The only classroom equipment was a blackboard and chalk and a holder for the chalk so that it could be used down to the very last scrap.  There were no overheads, slides or any of the modern teaching tools.  There was no cafeteria; we walked home for lunch.  There was no picture day - I have not one school picture.  There was no school nurse and there were no field trips. There was no P.E. - the walk back and forth to school four times a day gave us as much exercise as we needed.

Every class started with prayers and we had to know our catechism backwards and forwards.  We had to know The Ten Commandments, The Seven Sacraments, The Seven Deadly Sins etc. - all by heart.  Most subjects were taught through the medium of Irish. I still say my multiplication tables in Gaelic. History and geography were the worst.  How could I ever find cities and countries on the map or name events in History if I only knew the names in Gaelic? 

For handwriting we had headline copy books; nib pens and inkwells were built into our desks.  I would have enjoyed this exercise except for the fact my hands were always so cold I did a poor job and often got rapped on the knuckles.  We had a lay teacher for elocution and drawing and she was much kinder than the sisters.  We had cookery classes on Saturdays which I enjoyed very much.  We also learned sewing and knitting.

Children were required to attend school until the age of 14.  For many, that was the end of their education. Most had to leave school and find some sort of unskilled job to contribute to the support of their families. The sisters were aware of this and did their best to ensure that they left with at least a good foundation in the Three R's.

For more about Nora, click here: Nora's Website