Stories of Paraná - Slate Slate

Stories of Paraná - Slate Slate

Slate Slate
Lourdes Lacerda Suplicy

Lapa.
College of St. Joseph 1929
With her sister Rita, teacher of first letters, my colleagues and I learned to read in just three months. Sticky and fear hell.
To give more emphasis to their stories about the devil, the nun was naive pantomime terrifying: arregalava eyes, lifted the lid of his desk, and as she dropped, spent tripped on the chair and ran to the door with fanfare.
Thus, the image of the devil disturbed our sleep until adulthood.
But the joy was back when we crossed the square matrix with our uniforms navy twill, pleated skirt, blouse and halter shiny black patent leather shoes.
Desfilávamos always in pairs: the charts of September 7, the path of the Church, to enter class.
As Catholic Apostolic Lapeana, that old church received the teachings that comfort me today.
At that time, the smell of incense and bell time elevation aroused more fear than faith, but faith was simple, provincial and hassle.
As we wrote on the blackboard slate, framed with wooden pencils and special apagávamos everything with rags hanging from string, just as many memories that seemed to have disappeared forever marked on the blackboard time.
"You're on the moon, girl?"
Curitiba.
College Cajuru.
1938.
In moments of reverie, the girl lean and green I was eleven years old overlaps the adult.
Sometimes prevails another image, the rosy and chubby teen who returned home after a year of internship College Cajuru.
Registered under number 177, my whole outfit bought at Maison Blanche took this brand.
I entered the College accompanied by my father and my mother. In the parlor thought about running away when a black nun habit (which the Second Vatican Council took forever) approached us.
When a shrill bell rang I was left there, and from that moment, the bell began to regulate my life alongside colleagues: time to get up, praying, studying, eating, playing. The bell also called the nuns, identified by a code of beats.
As Sino French is feminine (la cloche), the bell Cajuru was baptized with the name of woman: Geraldine, Josephine, Albertine ...
The headmistress, Sister Julia, small, energetic, sharp-eyed, repeating: "Mes enfants, la est la politesse règle de bien vivre et bien faire toutes les choses".
Watched Mass daily and only went out once a month, the internal nodes, when we behaved well.
In three large dormitories were grouped by age: small, medium and large.
Eighty beds in each bedroom.
Lying, staring at the ceiling, the lights that illuminate the darkness sometimes were, for me, reflexes of a departing train and taking me to Lapa. We always have memories in a train, a train arrives or will that blows away.
Trains childhood.
One day, I could not resist and fled. Walk. With a few colleagues traveled kilometers.
Soon we were "returned" to the College and, as punishment, we are two months without leave.
In a letter he wrote home, filosofei:'' Possibly our thoughts met the paths of longing.
Came the letter from Dad and there was mine. "Today my mind is also the paths of nostalgia, remember small details: the classroom, the wallet and the voice of Sister Eucharist:" Lourdes, attention! "
Ude grandmother! Ude grandmother!
The voice of a grandson, urgent and imperative, calls me to 1993.
Lourdes L Suplicy, grandmother and homemaker


Source: Stories of Paraná, Brasil.