Pictured are the grounds of the Catholic school I went to as a child. I attended school with many whose parents were doctors, lawyers, & other successful professionals with that were probably able to afford private school tuition. My dad was a blue collar worker by day, a musician at night, and was building up his own business on weekends. I remember during my years of private school, since my mom went in to work at the same time we started our school day and my dad had to be a work really early, he use to drop us off at the convent with the nuns. Every morning my little brother and I would get there about 6:00am; we’d often join them in prayer, they always offered us breakfast, and then they would cross the street with us to make sure we were safely on the school grounds. Little did my classmates know that when they saw us with the nuns, we had been at the convent dark and early so we as well as my parents made it where we had to be to begin our day on time.
It became the normal routine for a few years; waking up before the sun was out, mom making sure we were dressed, fed, and ready for dad to take us to school; maybe that’s why I am still an early bird. My nephew now goes to the same school; when I pick him up and walk through these grounds, it always brings back memories of when I went there. I can’t even imagine the stress my parents went through just to make sure we attended a good school where we would also learn about prayer and faith. Every time I step foot on the grounds that started my school days, I feel the warmth of parents, their sacrifice, and feel blessed that I was raised with great morals and values. It also makes me feel especially proud of my dad for all his hard work, never giving up on his dream of being self employed, and all while making sure we never went without anything. Good childhood memories are suppose to make you feel warm and loved…and this is one of them for me.