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In those days, children were put to bed in the afternoons. The beds were what I can only describe as army issue. They were fold-up beds made of canvas and wood, something like a stretcher. The canvas was stretched between two end pieces of criss-cross wooden legs.
The children were covered with an itchy grey blanket, that had an individual picture sewn onto it. This picture matched the one on each child’s hand towel and coat peg, for example cup and saucer, duck, doll, train, soldier etc. I can’t actually remember which picture I was allocated, but I have a strong impression of the cup and saucer. I think the nursery teacher at the time was Mrs Clare. She was patient and motherly.
I also remember in the reception class, we were often given a small, square blackboard and a piece of chalk to practice writing our names. Whenever I mention this, people make jokes about my age and the dark ages!
Another early memory was being chosen to play Mary in the nativity play. I was about six years of age and it seemed as though we had rehearsed for years. I didn’t have to speak, the whole play was narrated by the teachers, but I remember vividly how much I was shaking with nerves and watching the lovely blue costume I was wearing shake with me!
The main school building was huge and Victorian built, with big old painted radiators to warm up the large classrooms. Mr Wilkinson was the school caretaker and he ensured the boiler was always well stoked up. I remember on winter mornings during playtime there would often be a crowd of girls clinging to the wall where the main pipe ran, carrying hot water to the upper floor. The warmth seeped into the brickwork and it was lovely for keeping warm.
By the time I arrived in the infant department, modern toilet blocks had been built onto the school. I was told that before, pupils had to go to the other end of the school yard to a toilet block without a roof and shared by the whole school.
The school was divided into three parts. The ground floor was for mixed infant classes. The upper floor was for juniors, but it was sub divided equally, one side for boys and one side for girls and woe betide anyone who stepped over the demarcation line. After the age of seven it was as though boys and girls were a separate species.
During my infant years the head-mistress was a nun, Sister Teresa. The head for the junior girls was also a nun, Sister Julie. I liked her, she was very quiet in manner but she really knew how to keep order! Her office also doubled as the junior girls’ library where we were allowed to go once a week, two or three girls at a time, to choose a book.
When Sister Julie left, Mrs Kenna became headmistress (previously a teacher). She was quite firm but a popular choice. She lived locally, on what was commonly known as “Tripe Colony”.
The junior headmaster for the boys department was a Mr Corbett. Though the girls didn’t go near the boys department and had nothing to do with their head, he seemed to get the thumbs up!
When I look back on my schooldays I think there was only one teacher I wasn’t keen on and I can’t even remember her name, so she can’t have been too bad!
My favourite teacher has to be Mrs Kiernan. She was such a character. She stood about five feet tall, always wore high heeled shoes and always wore a hat and gloves. It seemed to be a different hat every week! Every morning before prayers she would ceremoniously disrobe herself. First the gloves would be placed carefully into her handbag, then her coat would be put on a hanger. There was usually a silk scarf to be draped over one shoulder of the coat. Then the hatpins would be taken out and the hat placed on the cupboard behind her, where it would sit all day. Most of the class thought she was a wonderful teacher, mainly because she would let her sense of humour show occasionally, and her giggling fits were as uncontrollable as any of her pupils.
I have lots of memories of my schooldays at Corpus Christi.
Like making my first confession, making my first communion, making my confirmation,
practising for the Whit Walks round the school yard, being measured and ordering
the school uniform, which had to be bought specially for the Whit Walks! Or
practising strewing for Palm Sunday, the endless religious lessons, best friends,
petty squabbles, school bullies, being too frightened to miss Sunday mass. I
could go on and on, but I won’t because I fear I’m starting to ramble
now, but I hope I’ve jogged a few memories. School life wasn’t so
bad in the old days!
