Letter To My Younger Self
Dear Eleven year old me,
so clear a scene like out of a movie I find myself gazing at you back in the corridor of my old Victorian school, a shy eleven year old with an overwhelming desire to be accepted.
Where classroom doors open to sound of chattering before bell rings out and lessons begin. Teacher keeping grandeur to a minimum, propelled greatly with steady fixed hand drawing chalk across board, committed to the cause of explanatory knowledge which we kids just didn't get, appreciate or understand.
Inkwell desks standing in rows, boys blowing blotting paper when teacher's head was turned, my attention was more blotted out by daily drifting off into my own world.
Cherished memories of old singer sowing machines shuttling away as us girls would pedal for an hour blocking out any other sound, while boys at their woodwork happily learning desired craft not messing around for once, but eager as clock ticked away.
Morning assembly seemed tedious at the time, music teacher Mr Jones would have us all singing:
Far Round The World and
There Is A Green Hill Far Away.
Every day Mr Jones stood at the piano, his voice ringing out above all other teachers who sat up on stage...he did love the sound of his own vocals.
Sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor, bored of listening to the usual drone of Head Mistress Miss Draper, who wore black caped outfit over her normal clothes with black flat hat upon her head always carring a cane in her hand, not that you will ever get a whipping, it was always those naughty boys that got into trouble for one thing or another.
Remember our grey woolly cardigans gave us much amusement as we picked at our garments, collecting balls of wool to see who could create the largest handful.
But I have to say, now I look back there was a comfort in those hymns we sang each day, like assembly was a safe haven, the coming together and unity of us kids in our daily routine.
You probably wouldn't believe me if I met you now, but your life is going to be full of ups and downs, you'll have some wonderful adventures, live through them all with courage and determination.
Most of all I can promise you'll look back as I do with a labyrinth of twists and turns you never expected, leaving difficult times ahead, but you must never give up, just knuckle down and stay true to yourself, listen to your heart.
From your old self who looks on you fondly.
A much older Jenny. x