St. Peter's School and St. Mary's Orphanage today.
I'm a night owl. Try as I might to go to sleep at a regular hour, I am usually up 'til the wee hours crafting, cleaning, browsing online or reading a really, really good book! I am fueled by many cups of tea and a mind that keeps going long after the body is ready to rest, and that awful "second wind". Of course it's worse in the summer months, when we don't have to get up early every day for school. I'll need to get in gear as school days are only a few short nights away and Emma still needs me in the mornings!
My Dad is writing his memoirs and has signed up for a writing course at the community centre. He is 80 and has a lot to tell. He grew up in Durham, England at two orphanages. Born in 1927, his early years were Dickensian at these institutions run by Roman Catholic nuns. He was put in St. Peter's School in Gainford and then in St, Mary's Orphanage in Tudhoe/Spennymoor. I have offered to type up his notes and to do research on the net. There isn't much information on either institution.
From what I have found on the net, other children have horrific stories to tell and St. Peter's "cast a dark shadow over the village in more ways than one". It later became a home for delinquints, so if walls could talk, they would tell sad, painful stories.
I used to beg Dad to tell me stories about orphanage life at bedtime when I was young. He must have severely edited his tales as he always gave them a humourous spin, as he does for Emma today. Now I look on his stories about "scrumping" and stealing strawberries from the nun's jam when no one was looking as sad, knowing that it was because he was hungry and the children didn't get fruits and jam in their meager diet. He still speaks of beatings for wrongdoings with a laugh in his voice, but maybe that is the gift of time and distance softening the blows.
It is amazing that he turned out to be such a great Dad, coming from emotional and material deprivation. And those nuns really beat the work ethic into him, because my Dad has always been a hard worker, never one to be idle throughout the days of my childhood. He was also a gentle man who let me put ribbons and barrettes in his hair while he wound down from a hard day of work in his easy chair before dinner. I look forward to hearing the stories he has to tell. It's good to know the past, good or bad, as our experiences shape who we are and I'm just getting to know my father as a person now.
Well, it's 4:40 am. better catch some zzzzzzs!
From what I have found on the net, other children have horrific stories to tell and St. Peter's "cast a dark shadow over the village in more ways than one". It later became a home for delinquints, so if walls could talk, they would tell sad, painful stories.
I used to beg Dad to tell me stories about orphanage life at bedtime when I was young. He must have severely edited his tales as he always gave them a humourous spin, as he does for Emma today. Now I look on his stories about "scrumping" and stealing strawberries from the nun's jam when no one was looking as sad, knowing that it was because he was hungry and the children didn't get fruits and jam in their meager diet. He still speaks of beatings for wrongdoings with a laugh in his voice, but maybe that is the gift of time and distance softening the blows.
It is amazing that he turned out to be such a great Dad, coming from emotional and material deprivation. And those nuns really beat the work ethic into him, because my Dad has always been a hard worker, never one to be idle throughout the days of my childhood. He was also a gentle man who let me put ribbons and barrettes in his hair while he wound down from a hard day of work in his easy chair before dinner. I look forward to hearing the stories he has to tell. It's good to know the past, good or bad, as our experiences shape who we are and I'm just getting to know my father as a person now.
Well, it's 4:40 am. better catch some zzzzzzs!
