Sister Bernadine: A Not So Tall Tale

Today is my first day in Sister Bernadine’s classroom.

She goes around the classroom asking us to introduce ourselves.

When I say my name is ‘Kay’ she tells me ‘No, my proper name.’ I say my name again and say that that is my ‘proper name.’ But she gets cross with me and again asks for my ‘proper name’. She calls it my ‘Christian name.’ I do not understand so I say it again.

She calls me a ‘stupid girl.’ I do not understand what she means.

The class is beginning to laugh at me. My face is getter hotter and hotter the more they laugh at me, and I feel tears stinging at my eyes. The more I say my name the more she is cross with me and I don’t know what to do. She asks for my middle name and I start to cry because I do not have one and now I have nothing to say. This makes her even more cross and the class laugh even more. I know they will tease me at break time.

When I get home I tell Mom and she just says, ‘Oh well, I’m sure tomorrow will be better.’ But I am not so sure. I don’t think Sister Bernadine likes me very much. But I will be stronger and I will not cry in front of the class.

The next day in class, Tanya needs to wee but it is not yet break time. Sister Bernadine is eating walnuts at her desk while we work on an exercise to learn cursive. Tanya is hopping from one foot to the other and her face is all sweaty and red. But Sister Bernadine tells her it is ten minutes until break time and she is a big girl now and will simply have to wait.

Tanya pees all over the mat while Sister Bernadine is eating walnuts. In front of the whole class. Sister Bernadine is even crosser this time and threatens Tanya with a wrapping over the knuckles. Tanya is crying now. I know they will tease her at break time.

When I get home I tell Mom and she just says, ‘Oh well, I’m sure tomorrow will be better.’ But again, I am not so sure. I don’t think Sister Bernadine likes Tanya or me very much.

At least it wasn’t me who cried.

The next day, Tanya is not to be seen. The desk where she sat is empty and I wonder if she is gone for good. I wish I could go for good. But Mom says ‘Sister Bernadine means well and knows what’s best.’ Sister Bernadine again sits at her desk eating walnuts while we work on another cursive exercise copying shapes and making patterns. This time she is unhappy with Gloria’s work.

She says it is ‘sloppy’ and for Gloria to come up and get a wrapping on the knuckles and to start over and do it ‘properly this time.’ Gloria cries after her punishment and Sister Bernadine tells her to stop. She yells at Gloria, ‘Look at me when I’m talking to you.’ Then when Gloria is looking at her, she tells her, ‘Don’t look at me like that.’ I can see Gloria is confused. She doesn’t say anything. She just keeps on crying.

It is the same way I felt on the first day of school. She begins to cry harder which makes Sister Bernadine even crosser. She calls her a ‘stupid girl,’ and sends her to the corner of the classroom to ‘compose’ herself. I know they will tease her at break time.

When I get home I tell Mom and she says again, ‘Oh well, I’m sure tomorrow will be better.’ She says if I just behave I will not have to be scared of Sister Bernadine. But I don’t think Sister Bernadine likes me or Gloria very much.

But at least it wasn’t me who cried.

Sister Bernadine is more cross than I have ever seen her the next day. Megan has called her a naughty word on the playground and other children have tattled to Sister Bernadine.

She commands Megan to tell her the truth as lying is a sin. Megan says she didn’t do it at first but eventually she confesses to her saying so and Sister Bernadine wraps her so hard on the knuckles I can see loose skin on her knuckles, and they begin to bleed.

Megan howls, tears flowing down her face. That break time she is not allowed to go out but has to stay behind to sand a desk. The other children will not tease her that time.

But at least it wasn’t me who cried.

When I go home, I tell Mom and she says this time that Sister Bernadine ‘means well.’ I wonder why Grown Ups get to say this. I am scared of Sister Bernadine but I think she is a mean lady. I do not like her and I do not care that she ‘means well.’ I think of crying on the first day back at school, and I think about Tanya wherever she may be, and I think about Gloria and about poor, poor Megan. And I pray to God that He might smite Sister Bernadine and knock her down with a lightning bolt or falling tree.

The next day, it is Olivia’s turn. Sister Bernadine catches her eating in choir and slaps her across the face. It sends spit and pieces of bread flying across the tiles of the choir hall. She demands Olivia clean it up once. Her face is still red where Sister Bernadine has slapped her. This time, no one is laughing. All is quiet as we all wait in silence, too scared to say even a word. That break time, it is Olivia’s turn to sand a desk. Maybe now we all know it could be any of us. That Sister Bernadine has no favourites in class.

When I go home and tell Mom she says again that Sister Bernadine ‘means well.’ Again I am frustrated. I am so very, very cross. Does she not understand? I thought I made it all so very clear. Sister Bernadine is not acting like a child of God. Not in my books, as Daddy always says, or my Bible. Not like Jesus who told the children to come unto Him.

The next day it is my turn again. I yawn, still sleepy, and Sister Bernadine tells me to be quiet and stop talking. When I tell her I was only yawning, she tells me that I should know then to put my hand up and not be ‘petulant’. That God does not like a ‘defiant child.’ She calls me up for a wrapping on the knuckles with the side of her wooden ruler that I feel I know all too well. Again my cheeks feel redder and redder and hotter and hotter and my eyes begin to sting.

But I pray hard that I will not cry. They will not tease me today.

When I go home, Mom asks how my day was, and I say, ‘Fine’ even though my knuckles still hurt and there is skin peeling on them. But Mom is busy painting and will not notice if I simply say nothing.

There are still 359 days in the year, but I will grow stronger and stronger and I will not let Sister Bernadine catch me out ever again.

I will not call her silly names, or need to wee, or eat in class and I will make sure my work is not ‘sloppy’ and I will never again yawn without putting my hand up. I will be a good child. But I will pray that God might strike fear into Sister Bernadine’s heart. Each and every day, I shall pray. And perhaps He can perform miracles and give Sister Bernadine a new heart.

But I will never tell Mom again about Sister Bernadine because I do not care that she ‘means well.’

I do not like Sister Bernadine.

Not her wooden ruler.

Not one bit.

May God smite her.

Classic Study by Linda Apple