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| Reflections in a Hand Held Mirror Being a shy and introverted child I remember very little of what was going through my mind as I dressed myself that first morning, although looking back now as an adult I know I must have been �scared out of my wits�. �Wow your first day at school, you�re a big girl now,� my mother told me indulgently. Twirling proudly in front of the mirror, I certainly felt grown up in my maroon tailored blazer, tiny pleated skirt and my hat and gloves, which were my favourite part of the ensemble. This uniform made me look and feel very special indeed. To be a private school girl in the suburb, which I lived, was an achievement. I was the only one in my circle of friends and unconsciously I felt smug. After much fussing from my Mum with my hair and with her nearly scrubbing the first layer of skin from my face, my mother and I set off on what seemed a never-ending bus ride to St. John�s College. I could sense my mother was feeling anxious, she was very quiet and just stared out the window at nothing. That did nothing to help the butterflies that were dancing in my stomach. If mum was nervous something bad must be afoot. When finally the bus arrived at our destination we crossed the busy road and walked up the main street (or rather I ran, my mother had a tendency to forget I had smaller legs than her). Trying my hardest to keep up with Mum we turned a corner. There ahead loomed a huge old building. |
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| �I�m not going to cry, please don�t cry,� I pleaded to myself when I realized this was to be my school. It looks like a scene from a horror movie, so big and creepy, I remember thinking as my mother pushed me through the iron gates. Hastily we marched up to the junior classroom to meet my teacher, a nun, who looked so unusual but seemed to fit right in with what I had seen so far. This day is like a dream, or maybe more like a nightmare, I thought as my Mother and the oddity talked together. Clad in long black robes and a long black headpiece the nun was a sight I had never seen before. She looked large and daunting with a wrinkled face but she was smiling at me and when I looked into her eyes there was kindness there. That is when I knew that I was in safe hands. In fact I felt a friend had been found in her, as it turned out she was to be my ally for many years. Time had come for my mother to leave. I waved her goodbye and turned to the nun shyly. �You may call me Sister Gertrude, I will be your teacher while you attend this school,� the nun said as she took my hand. We entered a classroom full of many children. Apart from the many faces, that all seemed to be looking at me, this room was full of amazing things. There were desks lined up in rows and every bit of wall had something different to look at. Before I had the chance to investigate more Sister asked me to find a seat so we could begin the lessons for the day. |
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