“My first lessons were from a great aunt who taught in a one room schoolhouse.”
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My mother taught in a one room schoolhouse in Canada——she LOVED “working with figures”,as she called it.
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“My mother taught in a one room schoolhouse in Canada——she LOVED “working with figures”,as she called it.”
My great aunt called it “working with figures” too! A common term back in the day.
When I was around 8 y/o it was decided to tear down her old schoolhouse. It had been used as a barn and the area around it was by then a cow pasture.
When told it was being torn down she requested a last visit to the place she had spent decades teaching the youngsters. She was told the building would be torn down the following Wednesday, if she wanted to come by before they started they would wait for her.
I went with her that morning. We found a group of local men already there. More people came as she talked to them.
After a while she reached into the suitcase she called a purse and pulled out her old hand bell and started ringing it. All those people, the giants of my youth, filed into the old building and took a place.
She started talking to them and time flew.
I remember my mom and a neighbor lady bringing sandwiches, milk and tea sometime during the day.
I sat on the dirty old floor and listened as those people, who to me were like the Lords disciples, talked about attending that school and being taught by her, schoolboy crushes, schoolgirl flights of fancy. First loves, first kisses and everything you could think of.
There was no demolition that day, week or month. It wasn’t until most of those folks died that the building was torn down.
I remember asking my mom why they left the building standing. “No one wants to tear away an important part of their lives” was her reply.
I understand better now than I did then.