ActiveRain has announced a personal Kindergarten Story Contest. This is my entry blog. It is just a short 'down Memory Lane' story that describes my first classroom experiences. There were no kindergartens to go to as there was no such thing in 1948 in the Greater Victoria School District. But since I would like to enter this contest, I will tell you about my playschool experience—that is, as far as my mind can remember that far back.
I do remember that it was a long bus ride (about 15 miles) to this ‘school’ which was at that time considered ‘out in the country.’ This area is now one of the fastest growing areas of Greater Victoria. It is called Langford today, which is now a city unto itself. This bus was a green coloured school-type bus (gas engine in the front, mechanical brakes, uncomfortable seats, etc.). It looked like a truck with a long nose in front and, because I loved trucks, I loved the bus ride. There were many of these green buses that were all housed at a bus depot in downtown Victoria across the street from the large department store call the Hudson’s Bay Co. All the buses had “Veteran Stage Lines” written across the front and on the side. Someone drove me to this bus depot each day.
I was 5 years old and so were all the other kids. There were about 20 of us that made the trek every weekday. I remember that when we got off the bus, the teacher was waiting for us at the side of the road. She always hid the street crossing “Stop Sign” in the Scotch broom bushes at the side of the road. The school was across the street from where we were let off and we needed the sign to stop traffic so that we could cross safely. It was our job to find the sign and bring it to her. The successful detective was made king or queen for the day. Needless to say, there was a lot of pushing and shoving to get to the front of the bus when it finally came to a stop in order to be one of the first kids off the bus.
I remember the first day at this playschool—the strong pleasant smell of new varnish on the large tables that were to be our working areas is still seared in my memory bank. I don’t remember a lot of what we learned, but I do know that I enjoyed my time at the playschool. I do have one very vivid memory, however. It was a memory of Easter! I can see myself sitting at the table and making a little Easter basket out of clay with flowers coming out of it. The best part was the fun I had shaping the flower petals and twisting the stems. Then we got to paint it all sorts of neat colours.
The teacher had a kiln in the back room and we all got to have our creations ‘fired.’ I’ll never forget the excitement of coming back the next day to see my basket on the table with all the others--and rock hard instead of soft. Of course, mine was the best and most colourful! I bet every kid thought that about his or her magnificent achievement.
To continue with the Easter story was my memory of looking through the windows of the school and seeing a very large bunny walking around outside on the grounds, then coming into the classroom to visit us. We weren’t allowed to touch the bunny, but the teacher asked him a lot of questions to which he either nodded or shook his head—no words. One of the bits of information we were to glean from this teacher/bunny dialog was that there were Easter eggs hidden outside. Each of us was given a brand new brown paper bag and told to go and find all the colourful eggs. Needless to say, I found my fair share. When we came back inside the Easter bunny was gone. I will never forget that exciting day so very long ago!
I remember that at the end of each day we all rode back to the bus depot. I was picked up by my step mother at the end of the day. Dinner was soon served at the table at home, so I believe it was a full day of attendance at the playschool—a long enjoyable day full of experiences.
That is pretty much all I remember over 60 years ago of my first experience at classroom learning. Thanks for the memories...
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