B is for Bun

It's a sunny morning in early September and in the caravan Mama is helping me to get ready for my first day at school. After I have got dressed she brushes my long black hair until it shines and then gathers it into two tidy pony tails. I put on my small coat and then take Papa's hand in mine and together we step out of the door and embark on my new journey. Once again, my school is at the end of a lane, only this time the walk is longer and Papa has obtained permission from the farm owner to walk with me there and back every day. This is the second time in my life that I start school. Last time it was in a language that I knew and understood. This time around it will be different (see post Share The Moon).

After a walk where neither of us say very much we finally arrive at the school building. Papa and I wait in the hallway until a nice lady comes up to us and introduces herself as my new teacher. Her name is Mrs Jones and she wears glasses and has a kind face. I don't understand a word of what she says to Papa but she smiles warmly at me and I like her instantly. We follow her into an empty room and Mrs Jones shows me where my desk will be. Papa bids me good-bye and promises to return in the afternoon to walk me back home to the security of Mama and Sis in the caravan. And there I am, seated at my desk with my little feet nervously fidgeting under the table wondering what this new day had in store for me. The only person who understands my language has just disappeared and suddenly I feel very alone. The other children soon arrive and all look at me. It's always hard being the new girl but even harder when you cannot say anything to anyone. Luckily when you are not quite seven it's not so bad, you just smile and talk with your eyes.

Each day for an hour Mrs Jone's assistant, Mrs Watts, takes me away from the other children to a separate corner of the classroom where I can learn this new language called English that everybody else already seems to know so well. 'How clever they all are!' I think to myself. During our private daily lessons, we cover a new letter of the alphabet. Today we look at the letter B. We have B for Bun and B for Bus. There is a small toy bus on the table as well as a bun filled soft, juicy raisins poking out of it. We soon pass the letter B and every day there is a new set of words for me to learn but that bun still remains on the table. I have never seen such a thing in my life and on some days, I feel an enormous temptation to take a bite out of it but of course I never do. 






Soon we are up to G for Girl and G for Gate. By now the bun is a hard rock and the fresh raisins have become black shrivelled dots and, on all but on the hungriest of days, my temptation to take a bite of it has disappeared. I gradually learn to read English from simple books called 'Janet and John'. This new world of literature captivates me. I never knew that such a thing as books existed and hungrily devour Janet and John’s adventures one after the other and along with it this new language. I never in my wildest dreams imagined that children could do such marvellous things such as bake a cake, or go on a trip to a place called a zoo to look at animals in cages. Each morning, after my hour of special classes is over I re-join the other children for their regular lessons. Every day I understand more and more of the conversations around me and, one day ,I tell myself, I will talk.

To be continued....

Next post 13th November : This Lion Can Talk
                     


Note: All written content is the intellectual property of this Author. Image material is drawn largely from Pixabay with some small additions from private family archives.