Thinking Of You

Nazareth House Nuns

VARNISHEDFLOORS

Before we swept the floors, we sprayed them with wet tealeaves, which collected

the dry dust. It really worked.

When we were little, we would slide around with dusters under our hands and knees, to shine up the varnished floor boards.

Which were so shinny, that you could see your face in it.

"Woe Betide," any children who didn't do as they were told, or do the work which was expected of her. to do. Regardless of age. From early morning until late evening.

SHOES. BLISTERS and CORNS.

After trying on a pair of shoes for the fourth time and then told Sister Blandina that they were too small, she slapped me across my face, then told me to put them on.

My feet were arched over and I could not walk properly in them.

It was a wonder we weren't all crippled for life, with some of the shoes, we wore. When I got to wear shoes, my feet had to be squeezed into second hand ones, much too small. Which gave me agonizing blisters and corns.

We also put paper inside our shoes, because of the holes in the souls of them.

We had new shoes on Fest of Christ the King. And what a long day that was. We started after midday from Nazareth House, to walk to the Cathedral of the Blessed Sacrament.

Stand four abreast, until every one was there or at a certain time and then we walked around and around and around and around.

My feet were so sore. My corns and blisters were bleeding from the tight shoes and when I took my shoes off, my socks were stuck with blood to my heels and toes. I hate wearing shoes. And every change I get, even going to town and to the shops, I try to get out of wearing shoes.

CHIDLBLAINS.

Because of being so cold as a child, I suffered very bad chilblains. My fingers and toes would swell up with big red lumps.

They were very itchy, split open and bleed a lot.

I find this very hard to write about, because of the pain upon pain that was inflicted on me at the same time my fingers were already sore, painful and cut open with chilblains.

This did not stop Sister Blandina from hitting me across my knuckles,

with the side of the ruler. Each time that I pulled my hand away, she would add more slaps on. She then would hold on to my fingers and hit them,

I pulled away and screamed. I begged her not to hurt my chilblains.

More slaps were added on.

Sister Blandina would then take my hand to the front of her, while I was standing behind her, facing her back. She started to hit me on my sore fingers with the side of the ruler again. I tried to pull away from her.

I hated this. My fingers would be bleeding.

Sister Blandina always put my hands on the table to hit my fingers with the side of the ruler because I tried to pull away from her. She would get so mad at me and pull my hair and hit me, I did not know what she wanted me to do or say. I was so muddle as to know what was wanted of me. I just could not figure it out.

She then would put my hand on the table and keep on hitting my fingers, which were now cut open and bleeding, worst than the chilblains. I could not tell which were the cuts from the ruler or chilblains. You can not image the pain I went though because of this.

SCHOOL.

This would happen every day at school, all day long by Sister Blandina.

I had to sit on a stool in front of the class, in the corner of the classroom. With a big black pointed hat on my head, which had "Dunce" writing on it. The girls were then told to laugh at me, call me names and criticize me about the way I talked. This is way I don't like meeting or talking to people.

I would cut myself with a knife and a razor blade, so I wouldn't have to go

to school. I did this, because I knew what was going to happen to me each day.

My education was not about learning, to gain knowledge. My education was about fear. Most of us stayed in STD 6 for four years, as I did.

I was hit with the side of the ruler on my knuckles, because I could not spell very good and I always got my spelling wrong.

My fingers were red and blue with big lumps on them. I could not hold my little bottle of milk, Because my fingers would be so sore and cut open.

This did not stop Sister Blandina from hitting me across my knuckles,

with the side of the ruler. Each time that I pulled my hand away, she would add more slaps on. She then would hold on to my fingers and hit them,

I pulled away and screamed. I begged her not to hurt my chilblains.

More slaps were added on.

I hated this. My fingers would be bleeding.

SCHOOL.

This would happen every day at school, all day long by Sister Blandina.

I would cut myself with a knife and a razor blade, so I wouldn't have to go

to school. I did this, because I knew what was going to happen to me each day.

My education was not about learning, to gain knowledge. My education was about fear. Most of us stayed in STD 6 for four years, as I did.

I was hit with the side of the ruler on my knuckles, because I could not spell very good and I always got my spelling wrong.

My fingers were red and blue with big lumps on them. I could not hold my little bottle of milk, Because my fingers would be so sore and cut open.

In line going to church, Sister Blandina pulled me out of line and would then start hitting me what for I did not know I had done nothing wrong.

PLAY GROUND.

Sister Blandina broke my nose in the play ground when she pushed my face against the wash house brick wall, my nose bleed so much that day and I never went to see the Doctor.

There was ash felt on the driveway around the back of Nazareth House with little grovel stones all over it, I had to get down on my knees and walk on my knees up and down the driveway until Sister Blandina told me to stop. This was very painful and I had little gravel stone deed in the cuts which I could not get out until they came off with the scab which was full of pus.

We were allowed to play against the wash house walls as the windows had wire netting across them, so I never knew why Sister Blandina smashed my head against the brick wall. She would come over and grab the back of my hair and start slamming my head against the wall. I don't know to this day why. This happened when I played against the wash house brick wall.

SATURDAY.

Saturday morning at ten was our bath day. While one girl was in the bath, two other girls would sit on the edge of the bath washing their feet.

Twenty or more girls would use the same water.

If you were at the end of the line the water was cold and black. You could not have any more hot water or could you change the dirty black cold water.

The older girls who helped to bath me, would put my head under the dirty water and hold me there. I would come up splattering and out of breath.

Saturday was also the day we had to kneel down on seats facing the wall. Sister Blandina would then come along and if we had holes in our socks, she would hit us were the holes were and would then hit us with the side of the ruler on our knuckles. My fingers would be black and blue

Because I could darn. I was made to darn the socks and was not allowed to cobble them, which I would do sometimes and I would be punished for it. Saturday night we changed our clothes and under pants each week. I would wash my pants and then lay on them that night. they would be dry in the morning.

SUNDAY.

The girls who had parents went out for the day each Sunday, then come back at 5pm. I would wait for them to come back, one of them has some lolly. I asked her for one, she says no and then she gives it to me. I can't take it now, for she has given me something that she wants more for herself. I gave the lolly back to her and told her that, if she did not give me a lolly with a smile. I did not want it.

This taught me not to ask for anything from anyone again. It also made me feel good, Because I had learnt that it was better to give and make the girls happy. Than to ask for anything for myself.

Some of the girls were very upset when they came back. I could not understand, why they were crying, after they had spent all day with their mother, and I had none. I went up to them, put my arm around them and they told me that they had also seen their father, brothers and other sisters too.

I felt so upset for them and thought that I was better off than them, because I had no one to upset me and tear me apart each Sunday, like they were every week.

I would think, why don't the parents think of their children. If they could only see how they are hurting them, by leaving them here, in this Orphanage. I was always promising Mary and Jesus something, this was one of many.

If I ever got married and had children, I would never leave them alone with anyone,or send them to a Catholic school. I would tell Mary that my children's safety comes before any religion.

No one will ever take my children away from me, and that I will never trust anyone to look after them. They will have all of my love, for as long as I live.

MISSIONARIES.

The missionaries came to see us three times a year and showed us photos of sick people, it was so terrible how these monks dressed in a White long dress like clothing, with the little white buttons, down the front.

They went on about these horrible sores on these people with parts of their faces, hands and legs gone. The photos they showed us were people in the last stages of Leprosy and we were told that if we did not give money to them , they would die.

What ever they said to us only had one meaning and that it was us little children's fault if they died. The nuns knew how to make you feel guilty and I did not have any money to give them.

We were given money to give to the Missionaries in Africa. When I put the money into the Black boy's hand and then pushed a lever at the back, his mouth would open up wide, and I watch the Black boy eat my money. The little Black babies are flying around and crying in Limbo, because we don't give the Missionaries enough money to get them Baptized. I would think, Well then, I will go over to Africa myself and Baptize them , then they can fly with the Angels and Saints in Heaven. The little black babies will be saved.

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