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Looking Back at OLGLet’s take a look back at our Lady of Grace Teeming with children, oh … such a place!
It started as a dream – this parish had heart So they gave the Building Fund a strong start
No money to spare, they made the decision Canvassing, collecting with careful precision
Each family would bravely pledge a sum Then smiling, collecting, Mr. Powell would come
On each door he’d knock, then chat for a bit He charmed us weekly with his kind wit
We’d have our dollars ready, all set aside Building our future with a deep sense of pride
Meanwhile some of us took the Public Service bus To Camden for the Catholic school nearest to us
Others went to Somerdale School No. 1 Waiting for our own school soon to be done
There was another hurdle to be overcome Teachers were needed …. Maybe even a nun!
Remember the ugly nightclub all broken down That place was an eyesore, the worst in our town?
A huge transformation overtook the old place, To prepare for each sister her own quiet space.
An army of volunteers made it soon ready We now had a convent, solid, sure and steady
Soon Sisters aplenty in the convent were living Now it was green stamps we were saving and giving
With thousands of stamps … millions? Maybe more? We could get our Sisters a car, but not from a store
Purchases mounted as did those filled S&H books A black station wagon was greeted with astonished looks!
We wanted our Sisters, who came from far and wide To know we were grateful to have them by our side
There was a troubling thought, when we first found it true To get teachers .. why, what the public schools had to do!
Pay them yes, money, to be in the classroom When our Sisters for love, nurtured us to bloom
Can’t help but feel sorry for each public school child Even if during Catechetical they were unruly and wild
Their teachers didn’t have this fine, lofty goal To teach and to save their precious, immortal soul
We started in second grade, then went on through By 7th we’d built on an addition, brand new!
For 4th and for 5th our class was so big They sent us a lively nun, dancing a jig
The young Sr. St. Mark, fresh on her US mission Steeped in Catholic truths, rules, and long-held tradition
With her cute Irish brogue & figures of speech She was equipped to enthrall and wow, could she teach!
“You’ve got me off ta th’ rrrraces”, she’d call out full force Suddenly quiet, then we’d pay attention, of course.
She must have wondered, “Now, how could they ask?” 97 children in one room - such a formidable task!
So to the church basement, the only room large enough To hold … 97 ... 98? … and all our stuff!
We soon learned of honor and honest self-control Besides, if we didn’t, we knew heads would roll! Remember our picnics at Clementon Lake Park? Outdoor fun with our teachers all day until dark.
Some Sisters would ride the roller coaster hill But others preferred the jarring bumping cars’ thrill
Once we were all driving, bumping, and crashing away When something happened that almost ruined the day
Sister’s rosary, her beads … scattered, pulled all apart “Now wait, children. Careful! Watch, ok … start!
We scampered on knees searching clear to the door Beads beneath cars, rolling, skittling all over the floor
Good sleuths, to the last, each bead we soon counted Our frolicking resumed; excitement again mounted
The sound of our voices in church or at Mass Could soar and swell, yes, and vibrate the glass
Our parents delighted in hearing us sing “Tatum Ergo”, “Salve Regina” … the Latin would ring
Tuesdays, first Fridays … we practiced and sang Learning timing and diction, until the rafters rang
For smiling Sr. Loretta Therese we sang our hearts out She spoke in a whisper, rarely a loud shout
Hands gracefully sweeping the air with the beat Our eyes riveted on her, now that was a feat!
For our wiggle-worm selves to hold still & to sing We were fighting the urge to sway and to swing
Just seeing her nod to us with a smiled “Good!” We’d strive to do anything, all that we should.
Musicals, spring pageants and crownings in May Were times for rejoicing and savoring the day
Soft pretzels, pre-ordered, and only a nickel Soon you’re surrounded, sure, pretzels make friends fickle
The brass recess bell sat cornered on Mother’s high desk For the privilege to carry it – boy, we’d sure risk
Matching step for step with Mother Donata in schoolyard’s melee Through girls jumping rope, boys racing in “Breakaway” relay
The time soon arrived, it was your turn this moment To ring the bell, clanging, instantly stopping all movement.
To take your turn, and not stand in those 2 by 2 lines Arm’s length to your neighbor, standing orderly and fine
Was a joy we each relished and hardly could wait Until the day came around, your one assigned date
Another chance, hourly, was to ring the class bell And “Bless The Hour”, a job we loved as well.
There were some days when … the side blackboard rose Filled with seat work assignments, so many - we froze!
As reading groups rotated, our copybooks would show Red lines drawn and slanted where adverbs should go
The hundreds of sentences we diagramed must be The reason for our complete grammar propensity!
Often, our mornings started off with a flash As 5 question “mentals” up and down the rows dashed
Mid year another time of renewal and move New seat assignments, a new classroom views might behoove
The assimilation of knowledge without so much chatter New seatmates, good board view & attention’s what mattered
We’d troop, books in arms, to the room front en mass Soon we’d be re-settled, feeling refreshed as a class
Reports came round quarterly like a dreaded disease We’d squirm, eyes darting and all ill at ease.
Through the whole alphabet Monsignor would go Calling our names, as we fidgeted to and fro
We’d be sitting there praying for at least a “plus” To show we’d been working, and to avoid the fuss
Our parents noticed check marks blaring out loud Our failing to comply, standing out in the crowd
Our uniforms equalized us, the poor and the rich Jumpers and navy ties we preserved with many a stitch
No worry each morning about what to wear But unpolished saddle shoes we couldn’t bear!
For the girls there was this little beanie affair That mashed and distressed even the most well behaved hair!
For the boys there was always the problem of white Whose shirt could still be so after all day & night?
Our janitors… let’s not forget that kind, gentle soul Mssrs. Lex & Schaeffer made our school sparkle, going beyond their roles
We’d hope and we’d wait to see what next year brought Which class, which teacher, what had been wrought?
You could hear from a distance our loud, complete pleasure With unbridled joy and in abundant measure
When we learned that we stayed with Sisters Mark and Therese A second year – who’d have thought it, who says?
OLG meant a sound education, rest assured Never for a moment were we idle or bored
Graduation, then high school for us in 1967 We quickly learned that at OLG we’d tasted Heaven!
With much affection and many memories and a great education,
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