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When he was five Carl began his formal education. After dressing him in the prescribed
uniform of a white cotton shirt, brown pants and a brown cap his parents walked with him
down to the Mission School where they were welcomed by Sister Margaret who was to
undertake the boy's initial instruction. This Sister was a firm but kindly lady with a warm
and reassuring face. She took the boy's hand and he shrunk against her into the folds of
her rough black smock, smelling the unfamiliar scent of perfumed soap from her body
which, together with the smell of the oak paneling in the school room were to be his main
memories of his early school days. Becky was proud and excited by this occasion. There were many in town who envied her, who did not feel it right that such a woman as she should have got on so well and she was glad to spite them. But she did not take too kindly to the way her son cleaved so easily to the old Sister. Becky was well aware what was taught in school. Deep down there was a part of her that did not believe a word of it. She would never have dreamed of communicating this disbelief to her husband but, in many subtle ways, to her son she always did. The Sister conveyed them to the Pastor's study. This was a foreign land populated of strange objects with a large oak desk and a flawless glass window that overlooked the mission courtyard. The Pastor rose from his desk immediately they entered. He was all smiles and full of congratulations to the parents on the fine job they had done so far of bringing up their son. 'The town of Dentonsville looks after its own' said the Pastor with grave enthusiasm. 'Nothing you can sell, Shopkeeper, can buy an education but for those who are deserving it we will provide. Your son will learn the necessary skills to maintain his intended occupation and he will come to understand the religious and moral foundations of the community. The first is nothing without the second. Our leaders must be adept and secure, self-righteous of their status and of the callings of others around them.' Then they were ushered out and taken to the classroom where eighteen schoolmates of all ages between five and fifteen awaited the new pupil. He was given a small desk at the front and then, as the parents watched, the whole class stood and recited their creed in the manner they had been taught for generations: My God. What next? Those things God loves the best: My Country, this Great State; My town of Dentonsville; My Church. Who does God love best? Those who love the things He loves the best. Does God love me? God will love me only if I earn His love. How can I earn God's love? By serving faithfully those things he loves the best. What is the surest way to gain God's love? To die in his service fighting forthe things He loves the best. Starting from a playful world, through a time of great prosperity for Dentonsville, every morning Carl followed the mile long track, muddy, dusty or hard as nails, past familiar fields and shacks and people tilling the dawn mist, seeing the hawks rising over the distant forest. Though he was often a good pupil and always a clever one the constraints of such a life were not easy on him. Eventually he began to wander. Therein lay another education. Not a formal one but he who is of an inquisitive and independent frame of mind must gather his information where he can. |
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