--- CHAPTER 2 --- *** THE VILLAGE OF MY YOUTH. *** Picture a very tiny community, made up of houses where generations had lived, a few stores, the little Catholic church surrounded by the traditional town square, a public school and a parochial school. All around, dirt roads led to the pastures, fields and vineyards. It was a tranquil setting, where you could hear the voices of the farm animals, and also, sometimes, the startling sounds of guns. Life was busy. And it was a joy to celebrate Mardi-Gras with a parade, masks and special treats such as crêpes or a sort of doughnut --- or a religious holiday with a lovely procession in the course of which we, little girls, dressed all in white, threw rose petals unto the streets, from darling baskets hanging from our necks with the help of shiny ribbons; the whole congregation stopped and prayed by homemade altars which had been created in front of garden gates.(To this day, I love roses!) There were also school plays, and fund-raising schemes which delighted us. Teachers were generally well liked. However, in those days, discipline could be swift! Children learned how to write on slates; then, they started using pencils on actual paper; and finally, to their great joy, they were allowed to learn to use pen holders, delicately plunging the nibs into the ink well, on the side of the desk. I remember being sent home for lunch with my very inky paper pinned to my back, once!!! Another time, I recall so well how pleased I was for having been praised by the teacher, after having done well in math, which was generally a challenge for me! I had decided to write myself a note on my slate, so as not to forget to tell my mom about this special accomplishment, and ... made a weird spelling mistake, when I usually spelled correctly, maybe because I was hurrying too much, or I was too excited for having done so well!? How ironic! The teacher was furious, thinking that I had written on purpose: Miss Âne-Marie ( instead of Miss Anne-Marie) said that I had done a good job in math, or something to that effect!! For those who do not know, an âne, in French, is a donkey!!! She thought I had disrespected her in the worst way!!! I swear it was a mistake!! She and a couple of the older children had to push and pull me to the big classroom ---there were two in the school. Now, it makes me smile, as I realize that it was probably the reason why I have generally always spelled well in the three languages I know! What a lesson!! I do thank this old teacher for the gift of orthography though... There came the day which has been etched in detail on my mind and heart! One morning, the village priest came into the classroom to exchange a few words with the nun. All the children looked at each other, wondering what it meant. At lunch time, my sisters and I were directed to stay at the school, though not in the regular refectory . We were excited about experiencing lunch at school, yet ... And then the teacher came in. I remember the exact words in which she announced our fathers demise, our return home, and, a few days later, the funeral procession which we witnessed from the window of a neighbor . I also remember my bafflement when, the following week at school, I was unable to answer the questions on my slate as I had been accustomed to doing! It would take many years before my brain was able to function again as it had during my youngest childhood. I was then eight, and my youngest sister six months old. There were five of us. My courageous mother moved the entire family to the city, the following year. And a new life started for us all...
Posted on: Sat, 15 Mar 2014 07:11:07 +0000
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