We did not celebrate birthdays, and when I arrived at Sacred Heart, I recall being told that I had just turned 13 years of age. It was now the beginning of a new school year, the actual date I can’t recall, but clearly do the following events.

I was told I was going to Napier that night and would catch the interisland ferry to Wellington, arriving the next morning I had to catch the Newmans bus to Napier and from there I should take a taxi to Sacred Heart Boarding School. So, it turned out to be, it is my turn to be vanished just like so many others that I have witnessed. Other than being told that I was going that night there was no explanation given, I’m fairly certain there was no mention of schooling.

I was to be vanished into the big wide world which I know nothing about. I had never gone further than walking distance from the orphanage, never been by myself, never alone. I was given written instructions which is lucky because I was about to close down. I was given a bag though I can’t recall it well enough to describe and an envelope which I was told to keep safely in my pocket. I checked it frequently and it was reassuring to find it there. My mind completely shut down; I was petrified. What is going to happen to me? All I could think was please God help me!

Yes, I am on my way, a lady took me to the interisland boat that was to take me to Wellington. I was totally bewildered, she gave me the bag containing some food, tickets for the bus and money for the taxi and I think showed me to my cabin. I was petrified, and I’m sure, pathetic by this point. As my mind has once more shutdown. Where was I being vanished to? Who will know if I got lost? I was petrified, but composed.

I honestly don’t remember much about how I got there. I do not remember talking to anyone, nor how I got off the boat next morning. The next thing I recall is walking around the area searching for the Newlands bus. The relief I felt when I found it was beyond belief. I was so thankful to God for helping me. One must remember that this is the first time that I was by myself in the great unknown world. I knew nothing about even the most common, well known, mundane things. I did not cry. What I do remember is not crying at all, in my upbringing crying was for babies only, a law by children for children and woe betide you if you are caught. Your discomfort would only be made much worse.

The bus took us to Napier with many stops on the way. At each stop I did not know should I get off, or should I stay on. I don’t remember talking to anyone at all - my conversation skills were non-existent. I definitely did not have the ability to start a conversation although I did know how to yell and hurl insults! Logic tells me I must’ve spoken at least briefly to the bus and taxi drivers as I gave my tickets and money to them as they had to know where I was going.

I continued to worry all day if I was going to the right place until eventually, we did arrive at Napier at 4:30 pm. Now to get a taxi. The problem was I didn’t even know what one look like. I was concerned once more.

I eventually got one, how I don’t know, God helping me again maybe! What I do later remember was the taxi arriving at the boarding school and then departing, leaving me in a courtyard surrounded by buildings on three sides. We were on top of a hill and the fourth side fenced off a big drop, not that that registered at the time. My instructions were no more. Nothing to follow now. What am I to do? I did what most kids would do under the circumstances, I cried.

I just stood there crying for what appeared to be forever. Then a kind middle age nun came out and took me under her wing. She was headmistress of the school by the name of the sister Mary Lawrence and I was to discover that she was a very special person.

I had arrived and been accepted at Sacred Heart Boarding School. It was where I was to live for the next four years. I don’t remember arriving with a suitcase. I only remember having the clothes that I stood in, my food bag, my envelope that had had the tickets and money for the taxi. Surely, I must have arrived with some clothes, underwear etc. Maybe they sent up a bag of clothes separately or maybe Sr Mary Lawrence saw the lack of them when I arrived and rectified it along with my school uniforms.

Sister Mary Lawrence, I think looked upon me as her ward. Always talking to me to see how I was going, looking out for me, giving me personal guidance, encouragement, and comfort. She saved me from many embarrassing situations, giving me the confidence that I was so sadly lacking. She was my hero. The first person I learnt to trust, admire, and yes love, although that emotion was way out of my league or so I thought.

Sacred Heart was a brand-new life, a different way of living, completely different attitudes. There were no physical confrontations except for the one and only fight that I mentioned earlier. Initially, I was standoffish not wanting to join in, but everyone was persuaded to participate in all the activities to the best of their abilities. No one had to shine at them, so little by little I was drawn into the activities. Sr Mary Lawrence looked after the money angle and would occasionally ask if I needed anything personal, bra, underwear, stockings, that sort of thing. Up to this point I hadn’t thought about where those things came from, they were always just provided to me from the hand me down pile. The fact that it was now my responsibility had just dawned on me, but I had no idea how it worked.

Sr Mary Lawrence was liked by everyone and had her flock of old girls that she could ask for favours and they were only too happy to oblige. So, she got hand-me-downs from them but not underwear - that was always purchased new. If money was not available, Sr Mary Lawrence would explain to me that the person who is paying for my boarding was late with the money and I would have to wait for it to arrive. Communication! Explanations! How wonderful!

As soon as the money arrived, she would notify me it was time and organize one of her flock to take me shopping for my important needs. She never made me feel different, awkward or like a pauper. I think I can safely say that she liked me, probably the first adult to do so but that point was unimportant to me really, I so admired and trusted her. To me she was a living saint.

Of course, she loved my basketball ability too. She was the coach for the ‘A’ team which played in the regional competition. I was picked to play in that team for two years. I considered it to be a great honour!

The Nuns often celebrated a milestone when they reached an important length of time in God’s service such as 21yrs, 30yrs etc. The Day girls were given a day off school and we boarders were given an outing for the day – such as to the beach, hiking, etc. On one occasion we were allowed to go to the Easter Show.

The dodgem cars were a favourite, and we stood in line for our many rides. It was great fun trying to dislodge another boarder from their car making hard work for the young men who worked hard to get us going again. One of the girls came up to me to say that one of the boys asked who I was and what lovely eyes I had. My first compliment! I was so happy that I made her repeat it over and over to all the other boarders!!! Vanity was born – another sin…

Vanity was not a “one off” sin however… Any money I had was always spent on the latest fashion and when I walked down the street, I would look in the shop windows and tell myself how beautiful I was looking! Such boastfulness, such conceit, believe me I had it in bucketfuls, but as the years passed, up to today, vanity is no longer a problem! I rarely look in a mirror and when I do – shock, horror – not worth a second look. Our sins surely do come back to bite us!

My school holidays were organized by Sister Mary Lawrence with the other borders, they were not lining up although I didn’t know this at the time. I only found out once some of the borders would become my friends and started to ask me themselves if I would like to go with them. Sr Mary Lawrence gave her approval on all occasions and when I came back would ask me how it went. I don’t recall her asking me that when she had been picking the person.

One year she picked a girl from a farming family - I remember the girl being rather shy and I don’t think either of us had shown preference for each other’s company up until then. It was great though, I learned how to ride, and stay on, a horse. Marvellous! I also saw my first adult kiss in the farm kitchen in front of us. The parents were kissing each other rather long and meaningfully, I was so embarrassed, but their children took it in their stride. The next time it happened I didn’t blush as much.

We had our verbal disagreement sometimes but there was no physical abuse from anyone and consequently I did not feel threatened. I was becoming normal, socially acceptable, cooperative, polite, inclusive, overall a more disciplined member of society and therefore acceptable to outside public society. I put that down to the influence of Sr Mary Lawrence.

I recall an episode on the AA court for basketball/netball in Australia. I was a great energetic player, centre court, and was admired for my role. One Saturday afternoon I found out the whole of the boarding schoolgirls and Nuns had walked down to the court to see our game. I was dreadful I would catch a high ball only to give it back to the opposition. This occurred over and over countless times. How the mighty had fallen…

Everyone was booing, louder and louder and it was one time too many for me to handle. I turned around and told them to shut up and go away. When we got back to school Sr Mary Lawrence pulled me aside and told me that she had expected better from me and had never been so disappointed in me. No excuses were allowed for such behaviour. I apologized for the incident, she accepted my apology and the incident disappeared out of sight and forgotten never to be raised again.

I had really good relationships with two girls at different times the friendships growing over time. Lindsey invited me to stay at her place for a two-week holiday break, we had fun and enjoyed each other’s company. It was great and whenever she invited me back for short holidays (around four days) I would always happily go. She stopped asking me after the second, long holiday. On that holiday her mother took us with her on a shopping trip - she was making a couple of dresses for Lindsey and I admired a bolt of royal blue Marino wool.

She insisted on getting it and making a dress for me. I did say “no” frequently, but I suppose unconvincingly because she got it made into a beautiful dress for me with black piping around the chest. It was the first new dress that I ever had. I loved it but as an adult I realize that it would have been very expensive, and Lindsey was likely offended that I accepted it.

That was the last time I was invited to her place. Funny I can still see Lindsey sitting in the back row making fun of me with her friends around sneering and calling me names. She did not do sport except for swimming at which I have to admit she was very good whilst I was just mediocre. She was a day girl, not a border, and I ignored her and eventually vanished her from my mind (although she remained at the school).

My second friendship was a girl called Barbara, her parents owned a hotel down wharf side and she was left alone frequently. She had an older brother in his late twenties who would take us out places sometimes. I seem to recall he was in the Navy. All of us benefited from the arrangement, his girlfriend had just ditched him, and Barbara and I would do girly things, shopping, make up investigations and movies. The parents didn’t have to worry about Barbara being alone most of the day, this was the reason she was a border even though her parent’s hotel wasn’t far from school.

It was normal teenage years of investigation into life, dancing Friday night, outings with boys with home time limits of course. She would be taken to and picked up from parties when she was invited, and I would often go with her. These parties were outside school affairs, so most people were strangers to me, but I love dancing, so I was right in the mix. Boys were immaterial to me. My communication skills were very limited, and these were my first outings in their company. I had yet to learn that they too belonged to the human race, indeed were an important part of it.

Lindsey‘s mother and I kept in touch over the years. I would see her on my visits to see Barbara and in between wrote letters to her. After her mother died Lindsey wrote to me to inform me of her passing and apologized for her earlier moronic behaviour and asked if we could correspond. I thought that I would but never did. By that time, I had four children of my own, worked night duty and simply didn’t have the time. Now that I do have the time, I don’t know her new married name or address. They too have vanished from my horizon.

Barbara and I corresponded for donkey’s years and now and again I would see her when I would visit into her life. The last time was when Leslie and I went bungee jumping at Taupo, both on the way down to and way back from Napier. It was great fun and most exciting after my initial fears! The first time I had to ask the attendant to push me off the platform. He said “No, no, we are not allowed to do that”. I said that I really wanted to do it, but I just couldn’t make the move. I felt a very gentle hand nudge my back and that was all I needed - off I went. The second time I had no such problem - up I climbed and off I flew. Wonderful!

But even though I had settled into Sacred Heart I was not finished with Nazareth house… During the long holidays I was still shipped back for all long holidays - longer than two weeks. With practice I was able to do the travelling with more confidence, without feeling the fear and dread and definitely without the tears. When I was there, I had work to do, at age 14 I was taken to the San hospital to work as a kitchen maid, at 15 I was a ward maid at the same hospital same.

When I was 16 years old, I met up with a young man 20 years and learn how to smoke we would go out once or twice a week to movies, have coffees etc. He didn’t seem interested in sex, alcohol, or rock ‘n’ roll, just company. I was obviously too young although I did not tell him that I was still a schoolgirl.

Back to Sacred Heart boarding school for my last year, not a hardship believe me. It was a great place. During this last year I learned that the nuns read my mail, not that I got much. I don’t know if they read anyone else’s. A boy had seen me in the street with some of the girls he knew, and he sent a letter saying that he wanted to go out with me. Sr Raymond asked me to write a reply and refuse with a thanks. I did as she asked, gave the letter to her, and heard no more.

I liked and admired Sr Raymond, she was about 35 years old always pleasant and interested in everyone. She was the fifth form teacher and my last. Sr Raymond was the nun who tried to make me eat my porridge - I simply couldn’t. It was cold, lumpy and to me disgusting. The porridge at both Nazareth House and Sacred Heart was dreadful and I just couldn’t bear to eat it, eating toast and stewed fruit instead. On this day Sr Raymond insisted.

Maybe she thought I had not eaten enough, maybe I looked under nourished. She stood looking down on me as I stared at the porridge not touching it. We were at an impasse for what seemed like an eternity but may have only been 10 minutes. Then lo and behold she was called away and when she came back, I was sitting in front of an empty bowl. She didn’t ask and I didn’t explain, we had both saved face and she told me I may leave. I am sure she knew that I had not eaten it but neither of us wanted to go there and so it became another memory of my life.

At the end of that year my time at school was over. We all said our farewells, wished each other luck and good future, promising to keep in touch but mostly we never did. They stayed in the North Island and I returned to the South Island. Was directed back to Christchurch via the usual route, to a catholic nursing home. I landed by taxi, saw the matron, and was employed to be a nurse’s maid. One of the girls, Maureen, and I got on famously finding out we had a lot in common, most importantly that we both love dancing and partying.

We lived on site and there was a rule that you had to be in by 10 pm if you were on duty the following day. We lived in different cottages and she had learnt to open her window just in case she got back late but I had not! One night after I had been there for about six weeks, we stayed out dancing until 1 am.

My cottage was locked up I could not get in. We climbed into her room by the window and I slept in her bed - top and tail. There was no hanky-panky people please but we were caught in the morning by the cleaning maid. Maureen was meant to be on duty at 6 am so the cleaner, who was in the mid-forties, came early to clean the room. I wasn’t on until 8:30 am so was not late for my shift but that did not matter as she reported us to the matron, and we were promptly sacked.

Oops a daisy, what am I to do? Where am I to go? I was on my own to make my own decisions for the first time. Maureen and I discussed the problem. She was a couple of years older than me and was an adult. She said that she had come from Wellington and asked if I’d like to go up there with her but that she didn’t want to go back to her parents. I didn’t ask why I just - accepted her decision.

We got our last pay, travelled to Wellington by the overnight boat and booked into the YCA for a temporary stay. We got a job at the Salvation Army restaurant, but I was caught smoking on duty and once more got sacked. At the same time, I received a letter from the annoying priest from my past. How he knew where I was, I do not know. Interesting to speculate but pointless as I was never able to find out.

The letter stated that I was to get back down to Christchurch instantly, if I didn’t there would be repercussions, the police would be called to escort me all the way to Christchurch. Scary! I complied of course, turned up for the interview and was informed I was starting my nursing training at Christchurch hospital.

I remember that a couple of years earlier at Sacred Heart he had ask me what I wanted to do. I was just so pleased to get such a show of interest in front of all the surrounding girls. I had truly not given the matter any thought before, no one had asked me what I wanted or given me permission to think that far ahead. “Nurse” had popped into my head so that was what I had said not knowing what a big decision I was making.

So began the next phase of my life. The official Christchurch training letter I received directed me to Christchurch Hospital to start my training, it was 1960. I did but I was scared. I did not know what to expect and I really didn’t think I was good enough to be a nurse. They were far above me.