Stories

 We who were born in the 1920,s were very lovingly welcomed into a beautiful world, about to decline into financial depression that would last for a decade. Knowing no other times, we snuggled into our homes and families.  ‘School’ was for us at first “someone else’s world as we played happily in the house and backyard, or farm.  It was not uncommon then, to start school at six years of age; which I did in 1932 with my younger brother, Gerard; not five until March 10th!  So, with our mother we walked into St Joseph’s on that fateful day, and life changed.  Once seated, and welcomed by our teacher, Sister Leonard, the emotions ruled, and three of us boys wept quietly for much of the day; quietly comforted by Sister.  That crises over, we settled into a happy two years of prayers, reading, writing (on slates mainly at first), tables, singing and games, punctuated all day by prayers, and behaviour “advice plus”.  Every morning we stood, turned to face the large portraits of the Holy Family, the Sacred Heart, Our Lady, and sang hymns in their honour.  We honoured St Patrick with ‘Hail Glorious St Patrick’, and enjoyed a holiday on 17th March.  “Dear St Joseph, Pure and Gentle” was sung won 19th March.

Sister Leonard guided as through Primer One and Primer Two in our first year, and Standard One in our Second, in that unforgettable room, near the school’s front door.  Mothers came with, or for children on occasions, or with concerns, usually regarding health.  Sister was always gently, welcoming and helpful, but also quietly authoritative.  One day, in Std One she called me to the front for a reprimand for some action.  As I turned and retreated, quite embarrassed, she mistook my smile for disrespect.  Back I was called, for two “straps” on the hand! Familiar names in class and school then were Stembridge, Flynn, Hogan, McAllister, Wilson, Ryan, Balle, Brown, Farrell, DeVries, Gallagher, Marshall, Weston, Irwin, Kelly, Maxwell, McCort, O’Connor, Neilson, Rogers, and Noda, the only Maori family; from just across Seddon St.  Sister Leonard earned our respect and affection for so pleasantly introducing us to school, learning, and corporate prayer, and religious growth.

In some ways our teachers were “deputy mothers” and guardians.  Life was challenging in many ways.  Some pupils walked from away up “Puke Hill” “barefooted” as we called it then.  Roads were not smoothly sealed, and were at least slightly gravelled.  Maximum distance was about three miles (4.75km).  Sometimes, despite “toughness”, foot-care was offered, and compassion shown.  As well, colds and ‘flu’ were often rampant in winter; frosty as the season was then.  The Flynn family came daily from Puny, and the Hogan’s from Aerate.  One morning during our Primer days I was confined to bed with bronchitis, and my brother was sent to school alone.  Not able to face it without his virtual twin he diverted into a street on the way and sat reflectively on the grass berm.  Fortunately it was in front of a family friend’s house.  

The mother phoned our mother.  Mum left to collect him.  They were greeted by Sister Leonard; the lonely boy ushered into the Teachers’ Room and treated to a comforting drink before being made at home again in the classroom.

So on we went, to that other room, past the Teachers’ Room and the rear entrance to the school, that led down many steps to the lower playground (or the concrete-covered wall beside them, “polished” over the years by the shorts of the boys who chose to slide down!) to Sister Timothy; elderly, but greatly respected, for our Std 2 year.  This was a step-up year; spent honing our accumulating skills, extending religious education and developing in outdoor skills on the field.  Swings were available on the pine trees (no rules about climbing onto branches).  The toilets were located in a long shed on the school’s southern fence-line; so rural was the whole environment!  The Sisters always enjoyed strong support from the Parish Priest, Father James Molloy, and pupils’ parents.  (And I clearly recall the Sisters being invited to the impressive Fire Station at which my father was the Superintendant, for a morning tea with some mothers on a non-school day).

In those earlier days at St Joseph’s  we had a “playground from Heaven”.  I recall it in detail.  The upper (Seddon St) frontage was at street-level, but very unkempt by later standards.  In the Spring to Winter times, with variable weather, this area seemed dedicated to “marble games” of many kinds, as an alternative to field games (for boys mainly) Marbles “everywhere”.  I remember the odd occasion when a “senior” boy would dance mischievously by, and either stamp marbles into the muddy ground or kick them into “oblivion”!  Down on the field the Hill was a blessing.  As we emerged from classes at playtime everyone raced towards the Hill, yelling “Last up the Hill’s IT for Stag”! meaning starting as a loner “down the Hill” at arresting (tapping on the back) those running thereafter from top to bottom of the Hill.

The Hill in early days was confined to this joyous routine, and to boys playing “football” (rugby).  The field over behind the school building was a haven for Father Molloy’s horse, and virtually undeveloped, with a drainage “ditch”, and very often long grass and a host of daisies.  We would get down on our knees, in line, lay our arms laterally before us, and advance, creating our trails through that “daisy field”, (often at weekends too).  A large metal bin used to burn class-room rubbish. And we never lost sight of the church, seventy or eighty meters away; nor the parish cemetery just over our fence.  And with the convent close to the church!  It was certainly “our place”. Sister Marcella came from Taranaki, where she had been selected as a Provincial basketball (netball) representative, before entering the religious life.  We moved in the same room to Std 3 (with new Std 2 group) in Sr Marcella’s care.  What a patient, caring teacher!  The same routine applied; reading (relying so much on school journals) writing, arithmetic, tables-mastery, spelling, catechism, etc. 

Very rarely were we in those days called upon to address the class orally, except in reading aloud to reveal understanding and pronunciation.  Sister would present us with a list of words, and invite us in turn, individually, to pronounce a word indicated by her on the list.  One day she confronted me with the word “digest”.  Silence.  Then I offered suggestively “digest”?  She laughed good-naturedly, and all the kids chuckled with her!  That was my public “blue”, but with it, forever, I remember her charming amusement and understanding.  

To further illustrate her patience and positiveness; we boys were playing in that famous Shelter Shed under the classrooms at morning playtime.  It was raining outside.  We decided to make such a noise that we wouldn’t hear the bell at 10.45.  And we didn’t hear it!  On we went with our hi-jinks for fifteen to twenty minutes longer before the rain ceased.  We wondered why we hadn’t been sent for, and retreated quietly and guiltily to the room.  In we walked.  No notice taken by Sister, or anyone else.  We all sat humbly and got on with our work.  She simply left it all to our consciences!  I still have my mid-year report sent to my parents by Sister Marcella.  Back in Taranaki she has lived on into her late ‘nineties’.  In 2000 AD, with my two daughters en route to Hawera I called on her at the Stratford Convent. 

In 1937 we graduated, as it were, to the convent itself;  the home also for girls receiving secondary education.  A classroom near the rear entrance to the chapel was then, and for years past reserved for Standards 4 to 6.  We would attend classes therein, and depart at lunchtime for the school playground down the road, return for afternoon classes.  Sister Ligouri was our Std 4 teacher.  I had become familiar with her image, as she had often received the meat we Browns delivered from our butcher shop to the convent kitchen door.   1937 was another quiet year.  We seemed to have time to perceive contents of the few books available.  One day I was drifting through my atlas while Sister was busy with the Stds. 5 & 6; “looking for interesting place names”.  Suddenly I discovered in Russia a place named “Tomsk”.  That made my day, and a highlight for my year!

Change followed.  Rearrangement on a major scale for those times.  A new place for Primers, and return for us, as Stds 4, 5 & 6 to that classroom in which we had “met our education”.  Our very young teacher was Sister Bertilie; new to the school, and suddenly Head teacher as well!  Sister Bertilie was creative in practical ways, and a messenger for emerging changes in education and school – life.  She immediately expanded the classroom to the outdoors; incorporating sport and p.e. into daily and week-end plans.  She arranged with our help tennis courts out on the grass for girls’and boys’ summer use, encouraged athletics, cricket, basketball (netball), and even on-site long-jumping beyond earlier interest!  Then she arranged a parent to come, besuited, from his nearby home at lunchtime and coach the “first XV” rugby team.

Inside the classroom Sister seemed inventive; persuading us all towards handling all basic subjects, and showing little tolerance of misconduct.  The strap was ever-ready for the boys and girls could be “kept in” for breaking rules.  Perhaps typical of her firmness was this experience.  I had in some way misbehaved in the classroom, and was sternly sent to the Teachers’ Room. Sister followed me, and offered the option of the strap, or ‘omission from the First XV’s game that afternoon against Pukekohe Primary School.  I accepted the strap, took six ‘whacks’ around the legs, and after lunch, to balance that, enjoyed participating in a rare defeat of the “Public School” in a vital game!

Never shall we forget the promise we made daily in our years at St Joseph’s. “All for the Greater Honour and Glory of God” AMDG, printed clearly at the top left-hand side of every written page in class, or in home work.  And on school reports.

Almost all young boys aspired then to serving at Mass as Altar Boys.  That, we regarded as a height to reach, and a privilege.  We were encouraged to do this, and humbly; yet excitedly accepted the invitation.  Under the careful control and training of Father Molloy we grew, in quiet confidence, in this solemn and significant duty.

During the final years at St Joseph’s we boys developed a love of early breakfast and ‘away to school’, by 8.00a.m.  We joined excitedly in 1938 especially, as the historic Government Election loomed and was passionately anticipated by communities, in “playing our part”!  We played our version of “soccer” before school, and it was “Labour” (town boys) verses “National” (farm boys).  Duly the bell rang and we “ breathed easier” in the classroom.

One other memorable characteristic of life at school; for girls especially, was the convent’s tradition of teaching music (piano and violin playing) in a special room in the convent grounds, at the hands of Sister  Ligouri.  My family benefitted through the training of our eldest, Marie as pianist, and organist for the Church choir.  

 Girls dominated this dimension of learning; mainly because boys generally regarded it as a “girl’s world” and, like stage dancing, “unmanly”. (We would learn otherwise in due course!)  Memories faded quickly of our final farewells to St Joseph’s, because the focus was then sharply on ‘High School’, or ‘College’’; with another “starting school” prospect and challenge on our minds.  But all the images of the early days, and of those passing years will last for me “forever”.