Miss Gracie Birdsong was born in Lansing’s Ford on
September 11, 1894, in the warmth of her parents’ small farmhouse. It had been
an easy birth according to Mrs. Grant, the local mid-wife. A healthy 7lbs. and
14 ounces, composed mostly, it seemed, of inexhaustible lungs. Feisty from
inception. Destined for great things.
On her first birthday, Gracie was christened in the
tiny chapel which served as Lansing’s Ford’s place of worship and community centre.
Anyone who had the pleasure of knowing the Birdsongs had congregated to be
present at the baptism. The proudest of all were Gracie’s god-parents, Gar
Colter and his wife, Miss Beazy. The day before, they had made the twenty nine
mile trip from Heart’s Content, pulled happily in a two-seat buggy by their sturdy
Percherons, Max and Red. Gracie was their first god-child, and, unable to have
children themselves, Gar and Miss Beazy were determined to lavish her with all
the love they could. Gracie could not
have chosen better.
Gracie grew up strong with a will of iron. She could
run as fast as any boy, climb any tree, mend any halter or harness. Early on,
she knew she would be a teacher. Whenever she got the chance, she played school,
sometimes with her friends but even more often, out of necessity, with her
dolls. Gracie loved to pretend she was Miss Lowe, her teacher for all of the 11
years she attended Public School 43 in Hanover County. To her, Miss Lowe was
beautiful, graceful and the smartest person in the whole world. If she could
have become anyone, Gracie would have chosen to be Miss Lowe.
In September of the year she turned 16, Gracie went
off to Normal School at the University of Toronto. It was arranged that she
would board with Miss Beazy’s great aunt Violet in Cabbagetown, a short walk
away from her classes. At first, the big city scared her more than just a
little. It was nothing like Lansing’s Ford or Hanover. If you didn’t pay
attention, you could be killed just crossing the street. Yet, day by day, the
city took on a comfortable familiarity and she learned to enjoy the clamour and
noise and frenetic industry which surrounded her. Eight months later, Gracie
passed her provincial exams and was conferred the title of teacher. It was the
most rewarding accomplishment of her life. She could hardly wait to be in
charge of her own classroom.
Almost exactly at the moment Gracie became a
teacher, Cauliflower Corners, a village 32 miles from Hanover and only 16 miles
from Lansing’s Ford, was elevated to the status of Auxiliary County Seat. As
such, Cauliflower Corners would be entitled to its own school and to its own
school teacher. Gracie sent a letter to the Hanover authorities requesting an
interview for the newly opened position. This she was granted by return correspondence.
On June 21, 1911, Miss Gracie Birdsong was offered the position of
“Schoolmistress, Public School 46, Hanover County. Annual Salary: $654.34”. The
acceptance was whisked back before the glue was dry on the envelope.
All summer, great preparations were made. Material
for dresses was purchased in Hanover. Accommodations were secured with Mrs. Sam
Ketchill, a widow with a spacious room and adjoining parlour for rent in
Cauliflower Corners. “Ketchill Arms: No gentleman visitors after 7 pm.”
School supplies were ordered from Toronto, including
a six foot by four foot map of the world, boxes of coloured chalk, a hand bell,
ten pairs of scissors, construction paper galore, a three foot ruler and a
large box of stick-on stars. Four months of lesson plans were prepared for
grades 1 through 8. Outings were planned and holiday decorations fashioned with
imagination and care.
On September 1, 1911, Gracie, helped by her father
and her mother, packed up the farm wagon for the long trek to Cauliflower
Corners. It was a beautiful late summer day with a sun that still held a lot of
warmth. Just before sundown, the Birdsongs pulled up to the Ketchill Arms.
Introductions were made and Gracie’s householdings were moved into her new
rooms. Mrs. Ketchill had prepared a welcome dinner for her new boarder and her
parents, who would be staying that night as honoured guests. Stories and
histories were exchanged long into the evening. The bonds of friendship were
not long in taking root.
The following morning, the Birdsongs made their way
to the school where they were met by Pericles MacPherson, a short powerful man
with directionally-challenged hair of such redness that it looked as if his
head were on fire. The Periclean handshake was of such vigour that it caused
Mr. Birdsong to check for broken bones when he was finally able to extricate
his swollen digits from the human vise which had grasped it with unmitigated
enthusiasm. With the ladies, Pericles was the picture of gallantry, holding
Mrs. Birdsong’s small hand gently in his and bowing ceremoniously in Gracie’s
direction.
“It is indeed a pleasure and an honour to meet such
a fine family. We have the highest hopes for and greatest confidence in our new
schoolmiss. You must be so proud of your daughter, Mrs. and Mr. Birdsong”.
“Why, thank you indeed, Mr. MacPherson. We are sure
Gracie will be a credit to your new school.”
“Well, Miss Gracie, let’s get you settled.”
Soon the wagon was emptied.
“Would you like us to stay to help you, dear?”
“Thank you, Mama, but you need to be getting on so
that you can get home before dark. I promise to write every day.”
“Good luck, darling.”
“Thank you, Papa.”
“Write to us.”
“I will, Mama.”
“We will miss you.”
“I miss you already.”
“Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.”
At this, Gracie turned to the classroom which would
change her life.
No comments:
Post a Comment