Wandering Through The Land Of Nod.

Remembering an inspirational primary school assembly about Saint Francis. A seed is sown in my heart.

It was probably October, because Saint Francis is remembered on October 4th every year. Autumn sunshine was pouring through the high windows of Hogarth Primary School hall. The sun warmed the room and I remember the smell of the wooden floor because the August clean and polish was still new. Our small feet hadn’t yet marked, scuffed and dulled it with our running, jumping and skipping. It was good to sit on the shiny clean floor, packed in, cross legged, surrounded by my 1960s classmates. Our musty, woolly, plimsolly smells warmed up in the sunshine, Miss White plonked out a hymn tune and I was as happy as I would be in my school day, apart from story time. After all, I wouldn’t have to say anything, I could just listen.

My day got better when our headmaster (always headmaster or mistress in the 1960s) walked in. My heart fluttered and my tummy stirred with happy excitement when I saw he was carrying his red book. That book was a magical thing for me, full of wonderful stories which stayed with me and helped me through the day. The most magical thing was that he always began with a closed book and I watched with fascination when he opened it at exactly the right page. I saw the key to the magic. It was a red ribbon, attached to the book spine which kept the place. I’ve been attached to ribbon markers in books ever since. I dreamt of having that book for myself, I wished for it for Christmas, I made up a story where it was handed to me as a prize. I wanted to read every story and find the right place straight away.

I do now have my own red book with ribbon markers. In my working life, finding the right page was a vital skill.

Nowadays, you have to find the page on a screen using a keyboard or remote control. That is much harder for me.

How do teachers find the right page nowadays?

That October school day, the story was about Saint Francis, who visited a village which was being terrorised by a fierce wolf. I still have a picture of that wolf in my mind from that day. It is large and light grey, so large that it dwarfs Francis and all the villagers, but Francis talks gently to it, calls it brother and they make friends. The villagers all made friends with the wolf as well and brought it food so it didn’t need to be fierce any more.

I don’t belong to any society affiliated to a saint, but I’m attracted to Francis, who was defiant, generous and brave. He made a fool of himself in the eyes of the world and made the world around him a better place.

I’m attracted to the idea of making friends, brothers and sisters instead of enemies and I think that could be a lesson for today.

I would like to thank Mr Harwood, for his inspiration. It might be too late to do so in person, even if I could find him, but here goes; Thank you, Mr Harwood, you’ll never know how much those stories from your red book meant to this shy girl in that stuffy smelly school hall!

Do you have memories of a teacher who’s inspired you?

If you’d like to read a fascinating account of life from a Franciscan point of view, take a look at BACKSTREET PILGTIM

Wander well, Mandy.

Things I love:

• A ribbon marker.
• Starting the day with a song, story and prayer.
• Teachers who have inspired me.