Suffer Little Chrildren

Suffer Little Children

I remember waking up and thinking of the day ahead and what it would bring. Had I got my homework done? Did I learn my spelling? Was my maths OK?
“Phyllis are you up yet? Hurry up, your porridge is going cold.”
“I’ve a pain in my stomach, Mam”
“I’ll get my shoes on and go for Garda Dolan!”
“Coming Mam…”
My sister, Bridget, was crying. “I’m not going Mam. I hate school.”
“That’s it,” Mam said “Get your coats on and put your lunch in your bag. You’ll have to walk to school today – I don’t have your bus fares.”

Going into school, the first thing you would hear was Sister Natalie shouting and telling everyone to get into line and stand right. If you were seen talking to the next person you could get a slap in the back or a thump in the shoulder.
Into class we would go. Bridget would go into her class and I into mine and looking at my sister you could see the fear in her eyes. I knew she was left handed and couldn’t write with her right and Sister Natalie would make her put her left hand down on the desk and she would hit her with a leg of a chair down on the knuckles.
“Phyllis Tuke, did you bring in your penny for the black babies?”
“No, Sister Clare, Mam didn’t have any money today but I brought some silver paper from my father’s cigarette packets”
“Silver paper? What good will that do for black babies? Will that feed them? Get back to the back of the class! Did you do your homework last night?”
“Yes, Sister Clare”
“We’ll soon find out!” And just the tone in her voice made me sick inside. Sister Clare had her own special pupils like the Burns sisters and Audrey Norton. They always had money for the babies and they always had their homework corrected.
“Phyllis Tuke, get up here and do this math on the board” I would walk up and hear the sniggers coming from behind me.
“Come on. We’re waiting.”
Looking at her with the ruler in her hand and my legs shaking, I started writing the sum on the board and it was the luck of God that I got it right.
“Well, you’re good for something. Who helped you with that?”
“My sister Mary” I said.
With that, a teacher walked into the room. Her name was Miss O’Brien. She was nice to me. She called me aside and gave me some stale bread as she knew my mother kept chickens in the back garden. I didn’t tell her that my father had killed them over time for our dinner, so coming home from school I would throw it away. I couldn’t even tell my Mam.

You know, thinking back on my school days I remember my Mam going to visit Knock in Mayo and bringing us back beautiful rings. Into school I went, as proud as I could be. When the nun spotted my ring I was called into the office and asked what was I wearing on my hand. I said “Mam went to Knock yesterday and brought us back this beautiful ring of Our Lady.” Well, she came behind me and pulled my long hair.
“Take that ring off and put it in the bin!”
“Sister” I said “My ring is a holy ring. Mammy said it is a special ring.” And she proceeded to pull my hair harder. In the end I took my ring off and handed it to her with tears in my eyes. I left that office and never saw that ring again but I can still see that ring in my mind and carry it in my heart.

The nuns were terrible to us in school. God forgive them, for I never will. You know, I watched the Magdalene Sisters and I know they had a terrible time, but we had just as much pain and suffering as they had, the only difference was that we could go home at the end of the day to our Mam and Dad.

I sometimes wondered if there was a God in heaven and if there was, why did he let young and innocent children suffer the way they did. We were taught that there was a heaven and hell and I hope that they have gone to hell and that the Devil has that ruler and leg of a chair and is using it on them.

Can I remember anything good about my school days? Well I can. I won a holy picture. I can’t think what class I was in but that was the only good thing I can remember. Anyway, that was a day in my life going to school. I don’t have very good memories. But I know that my mother did think she was doing good for us and that we were loved very much by my Mam and my Dad in his own way.

ARTS AND CRAFT

Just before we were about to go home from school one evening as we were packing our bags, our teacher told us to bring in some spuds the next day for arts and crafts.
It was nearly 3 o'clock so we took no notice of what she said. So we just grabbed our bags and out the door at 100 miles an hour
Back to school the next morning sitting down with my friends, then surprise!
"Take out your spuds - we are going to cut them in halves and make different shapes to paint."
I looked at Martin. "Have you got any spuds?"
"No" was his answer. Looking around I could see we were not the only ones. Thinking fast I said to my self “Yer man next door has a fine garden of spuds“
“Miss can I go to the toilet?”
“Yes” was the answer.
Our toilet was outside at the back. Very handy, the spuds were just over the wall. Surprise! Guess who wanted to go to the toilet? Martin.
Over the wall military style, pulled a stalk of spuds. Over the wall again, into the toilet, washed our spuds and they were fine spuds! Willie was short a good feed of spuds. Back in to class, mission accomplished!
We made a nice little deal with the rest of the boys that had no spuds. Plenty of sweets and plenty of spuds! What more could two boys want? I would say we showed plenty of craft but we will not say much about the arts. The best shapes we made was climbing the wall in and out of Willies garden.
A pleasant memory from my days at school.