Lit eZine Vol 5 | p-30A | INSIGHTS | Lessons for Life

CREATIVE NON-FICTION

LESSONS FOR LIFE
by Marguerite Schneider

It was the mid-1960s in Queens, NY, one of New York City’s “outer boroughs”, those parts of the city that closely surround the island of Manhattan but were then worlds apart from it. While Queens would come to have one of the most diverse populations in the US, folks back then were comfortable staying in their largely Catholic, white, working-class communities, in which one’s intellect was rarely challenged by new experiences. The societal upheaval of the late 1960s had yet to happen. 

Two young girls of approximately ten years of age were classmates at Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal School. Mary was a kind, sweet, fun girl with a smile so warm that it made everyone around her feel special, so that she was immensely popular. Mary was an average-to-good student who was occasionally in trouble for trivial things, such as passing notes in class, but was never in trouble for terrible things, such as cursing or fighting. Margaret was a smart girl, always at the top of her class. She was quiet, reserved, more like an adult in some regards than a child should be. Margaret was never in trouble. Never. No one would say that Margaret was much fun. She was not so popular, the fate of most goody two-shoe characters, and was astonished that Mary was among her friends. The girls were blessed with Sister Agnes Mary, who was an excellent teacher and a very gentle, patient person. She wasn’t one of the mean nuns who seemed to truly hate children. Sister was quite petite, so that a few of the taller students towered over her. From a distance, she could be mistaken for a child wearing a Halloween costume instead of an authentic nun. 

It was a warm, late spring afternoon. After their lunchtime break, followed by playtime in the schoolyard, class was back in session. Sister Agnes Mary was having difficulty holding the class’s attention, as sometimes occurred after lunch and playtime, but this afternoon the class was particularly distracted. Every time she turned around to write on the board, Sister heard much whispering, even some light laughter, and saw notes being passed out of the corner of her eye. Sister asked, then demanded, for the class to quiet down and pay attention, multiple times. She even threatened to bring the Principal to the class if the situation continued. The class tried to quiet down, and did so for a bit, but then the mayhem re-emerged. 

Inexplicably, Margaret got caught up in the mood of the class and decided to pass a note. Rather, she decided to write a note and then pass it. This is the same Margaret who earlier that afternoon had engaged in her typical refusal to accept notes from others that had come her way, sneering slightly at the note senders. Margaret scribbled a few lines on a small piece of paper and passed it to Mary. Mary read Margaret’s note, and both girls broke out into uncontrollable, raucous laughter. They tried and tried to stop, but their attempts were to no avail. And being that laughter is contagious, many in the class joined in, despite that they had no idea what the laughter was about. 

Sister Agnes Mary stopped teaching and looked straight at Mary, with an uncharacteristically stern look on her face.

“Mary, WHAT is so funny? Please read the note to us.”

Mary shook with fright. She was so fearful that she couldn’t speak. 

Sister was to prove guilty of relying on past patterns of behavior to render a judgment, as adults tend to do. Mary was a good girl but occasionally erred. Margaret never erred. 

“Mary, the entire class wants to know what is written on the note that you shared with Margaret. And I am surprised at you, Margaret, for participating in this!”

Mary continued shaking and remained unable to speak. Sister walked to Mary’s desk and grabbed the note out of her hand. 

“Well class, here is what the note says,” she exclaimed before reading the note to herself, which was surely a mistake. 

“Beans, beans, the musical fruit. The more you eat them, the more you toot!”

Everyone in the class burst out into boisterous laughter, with tears rolling down many cheeks. The note itself was hilarious, but that Sister Agnes Mary read it aloud including the word “toot” made it unbearably hilarious. 

Sister Agnes Mary’s face turned bright red. She stared at the girls for what seemed like an eternity while looking as if her head might explode. The class gradually quieted down, becoming frightened at the thought of what might unfold. They loved Sister Agnew Mary and certainly didn’t want her head to explode. Sister then spoke. 

“Mary, this is a very rude note, I am so surprised at you! Why did you write this?”

“Sister Agnes Mary, I didn’t write the note, Margaret wrote it and handed it to me. Please believe me, I would not lie to you!”

“Well, that is quite a story. Margaret, did you write the note and pass it to Mary?”

This was Margaret’s moment to do the right thing, to tell the truth and face the consequences of her actions. Did the goody two-shoes have it in her to tell the truth? 

“Sister Agnes Mary, I did not write the note. Mary handed me the note, even though I told her I didn’t want it. I passed it back to her.”

After Margaret spoke, Mary immediately pointed at her, stared into her eyes, and exclaimed, “You know that you wrote it, you know that you’re lying!”

Ah, poor Sister Agnes Mary needed to have the wisdom of Solomon to decipher this finger-pointing. Sister was wise, but not as wise as Solomon. She gazed at Mary. 

“Mary, I believe that you wrote the rude note and passed it to Margaret.” Mary looked broken, hunched over in her desk, on the verge of tears.

Sister Agnes Mary then glowered at Margaret. “Margaret, you certainly share much of the blame, whether you wrote it or not!” 

Sister studied the two girls. They were shaking, pale white, and appeared as if they might vomit from being so upset, from the spectacle of the situation. Wise Sister Agnes Mary realized that the girls had suffered enough, perhaps too much, and the spectacle needed to end. 

“Girls, there will be no punishment for this, no detention, no meeting with the Principal. I will not call your parents. But each of you is to say the Hail Mary Prayer ten extra times tonight, so that God forgives you, as I forgive you.”

“And class, this certainly would not have happened if you hadn’t behaved so badly all afternoon! You also share the blame! So, each of you is also to say the Hail Mary Prayer ten extra times.”

“Now, let’s get back to our lessons, and let’s pay attention this time!”

When the school day ended, the girls did not speak to each other. Margaret was consumed by guilt but was not sufficiently consumed to confess the truth to Sister Agnes Mary. She worried that Mary would shun her for the betrayal, understanding that would have been deserved. 

The girls did not speak for a few days, but then started to smile and wave to each other. 

Within another few days, Mary – kind, sweet Mary – approached Margaret as if the spectacle had never happened. Margaret marveled at Mary’s ability to forgive her. Their relationship was, of course, changed as significant events tend to alter relationships. But they continued to be friends until Mary moved away and transferred to another school.

As an adult, Margaret would reflect on this childhood memory every now and then. It is quite a juxtaposition; she mused. All of those catechism lessons, all of the rules to follow, at Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal School, most of which were off-putting, fear driven, not at all inspirational. In contrast, it was from the event in Sister Agnes Mary’s classroom on that warm, late spring day that Margaret came to realize the importance of having integrity and went on to become known as a person who maintains her integrity, even in challenging situations. She also experienced the gift of forgiveness from both Sister Agnes Mary and her friend Mary. Margaret practices bestowing this gift on others while recognizing that her ability to forgive others would remain a work in progress, forever in need of further improvement. 

Yet, while Margaret learned several life lessons from the aftermath of the silly note she wrote and passed that day, one lesson that she still cannot quite get down as an older adult is self-forgiveness. That is an elusive one for her, which has something to do with the lingering effects of those damn fire-and-brimstone catechism lessons.

Note from the LIT eZINE Desk
Our sincere apologies to the author for the late publication of this story. The page was somehow missed during publication but we have rectified the error now.