I remember when I was in the second grade at Saint Mary's, my teacher was Sister Agnes Claire. She was probably the kindest and best teacher I ever have had. Iwill never forget her.
In contrast, when I was honored to be in the children's choir, the director Sister Theresa noticed I may have musical potential and blessed me with private lessons.
She was small, thin and quite intense. I was painfully shy and she frightened me as I stood next to her trembling while she pounded (tortured) the piano keys with her bony fingers.
My stomach ached so that I barely could barely breathe. Suddenly she slammed her hands down and through tightly clenched tiny teeth sternly demanded I project my voice.
I became hopelessly mute. She gave up in exasperation and sent me away after only ten minutes of lesson. Fine, I was relieved to be free of this most unwelcome obligation.
When she saw me after that in the hall or playground, she would display a look of pity mingled with disdain. Perhaps Sister Theresa meant well. That I will never know or dwell on though I will not forget her either.
We all have our bumps in the road and it would be foolish to think it should be a frivoulos carefree existence all the time. Otherwise how would we know the difference?
Over time I realized that before confidence is carelessly scared away at a young age, everyone can naturally sing. I learned mostly from the grandkids that we can be silly and foolish, do the Maw Maw dance, embarrass our kids, have fun and do what we want to do with optimism and humor.
It is our choice as to how we will react to the piper. For the most part I choose a happy tune whenever it seems to fit the moment.
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Lot of wisdom in those words - about confidence scared away, about singing and about choices.
ReplyDeleteNow I, on the other hand, remember a mean Sister Margaret and music and pounding on the piano and her screeching between clenced teeth ...'sing, sing, sing.' So funny how we all different memories. I do know I LOVE to sing (and dance) but have no confidence. I think Dad scared it out of me because I can remember him and mom laughing at me when I would try to sing (probably good naturedly on their part - but they scared my confidence away). When I was a God-fearing Southern Baptist, I so wanted to sing in the choir and always said I'm sure I'll be in the choir in heaven - when and if I got there! HaHaHa.
"Memories, rushed between the pages of my mind."
darn on the typos above!
ReplyDeleteI also remember a tooth clenching nun, maybe it was just Dianes story I remember. I really can't remember my 1st or 2nd grade teachers names... maybe I'd just soon forget anyway, I was not a very happy camper at St Marys. Everything was scarry... the nuns, the statues in church and the music... Okay, I know... I'm weird.
ReplyDeleteAren't we all - in our own special ways, of course!
ReplyDeletePower to the Sisters!
Hmmm..interesting reading your comments on the scary nuns. Perhaps it is good I went to public school in elementary and junior high. I had only good experiences (pretty much) from the nuns in high school. Maybe that is why I still go to the Catholic Church. LOL
ReplyDeleteI do remember the very first day of high school. I had never been to a Catholic Mass and had no idea why they were getting up and down on one knee, sitting and standing and what the heck were they saying. I had never heard Latin before. I had been going to s Baptist church and wondered if they were speaking in tongues. Thank goodness when Vatican II happened and they started speaking in English.
We have all had such different life experiences that have formed our ideas and beliefs. I think that is a very good thing.
Keep writing girls. I will post something soon besides comments. I do love it when someone else gets it started.
Yes....power to the Sisters!
I think I went the first two or three years of school. My classroom nuns were all nice and I liked it there.The only scary parts for me were on the playground with the harsh nuns looking for trouble makers. Sometimes I must have lookeed guilty because I tried to keep a low profile. I didn't want them to peer into my eyes and see the content of my soul as I heard the priest say once in his sermon. Also I think Sister Leonora was the principal and she scared me more than Sister Theresa when she would unannounced glide into the classroom seemingly as if coasting on air. Maybe she had wheels on her black boots. My teachers seemed to be caught offgaurd by her also. Looking back now I consider it an interesting time of my life with many more stories waiting to be told.
ReplyDeleteCrap. I forgot to sign in and lost the little comment I made.
ReplyDeleteWhat I said was.....hearing all your comments about nuns brought to mind a few of my own. I will share later as I am off to the nursing home and visit a shut in. I know they all went to Catholic school so I will ask them about their memories of the nuns that taught them. They all love to relive their memories so it should be interesting listening. I will post later. Thanks for getting it started Diane. It is fun remembering.
Love you all.
I remembered another good one. On a rare occassion when Jim took me to church instead of the park, I noticed the church was full when we got there standing room only. I don't remember if any of you were there. When it was time for Communion, we got in the long line from the back of the church to the alter.
ReplyDeleteThere were two lines down each side. Don't know what holy day it must have been. With Jim standing behind me I kneeled ay the alter, opened my mouth to accept the host (I liked the taste like fish food.
Without warning projectile vomit spewed out of my mouth and onto the alter and the dismayed priest. I turned and looked at Jim for help and he seemed to have lost any possible recognition of ever knowing me.
Beyond that I don't remember how I overcame that one. Or the one at the Reiner's bakery donut counter, or the entrance to Hungry Herman's on High Street, and more places than I can say.
HaHaHaHaHa..... You crack me up, Diane! I do remember that you used to throw up A LOT! I can remember riding the bus (maybe to Lori's on Pacement?) and we'd have to get off just so you could throw up in the trash can (hopefully) and then we'd get on another bus and be on our merry way.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the entertainment!