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Ann Free Spirit | Synopsis | Mother Francis of Rome | Rev. Fr. Thomas Doyle | We Stand By You Rev. Fr. Doyle | A Letter of Hope | A Little Help Fom a Friend | From a Friend | A Priest Doing God's Work | Innocents was Taken | Mr. Savano | Pope John Paul II | Pope John Paul II | Nun Suddened by the Truth | Shield accused nun | Abuse by nun's hands, not God's | Together we Stand | Priest Abusing Nuns | Next to Godliness.. | First Stirke Out | The New Cardinals | Catholic News Site | The Testament Site | Reaching: Out to Stuart & Paul | A Little Child Stands in Line | A Lonly Little Child | Nobody's Child | Rosary Beads in The Hall | I Give You My Hand In Friendship | When I Hear These Things | One More Nights Sleep | If Only | Humpty Dumpty | I Love You | Don't Let Go Until Tomorrow | My Dearest Lover | The Lonely Rose | How Did I Survive???? | Children Need Love | A Friend is What I Want to Find | I Give You My Hand In Friendship | When the Night Comes | Who Am I??? | There Are So Many Tears | Maria, What I see in You | Re-abuse | You Were Always Here With me | Fear Within 2003 | Elvis!!! | My Life Was Stolen From Me | God Is My Witness | I want My Freedom From My Torment & Pain | Give Me my Time to Heal. | Nuclear War | When the nuns had their fates | How do They Live With Themseleves? | Re-abuse 2002 | We Want Our Faith Back | Spiritual Abuse | My Faith was Strong | Trust was Broken | I Cry Each Day | Bless me Father | Hear our Cries | The nuns Picked on the same children | Apologize to us | Like Saints and Martyrs | Half Truths | Tell The World the Truth | No More Lies | Nun wrongly claimed dead | Hurt so Bad | Acknowledgment & Justice | Innocent Unwanted Children of Nazareth House | My Family | Our Wedding Day 1965 | My Son Robert 1 | My Son Robert II | My Daughter Joanne | My Daughter Rachel | My Daughter Bridget | My Four Grand Children | My Mother's Family | Mother I | Mother I

The Early Years at Good Shepherd Nuns

                

            THE EARLY YEARS.

             ST. JOSEPH'S

               GIRLS ORPHANAGE.

                 RUN BY THE

             GOOD SHEPHERD NUNS

               1941 TO 1951

 

    My mother was a young girl of 16 years, when she gave birth to me in Wellington. On March 31st 1941. I was then taken to St.Joseph's Orphanage Christchurch.

 

I was raised in two different orphanages, from two months old to twenty-four years. St. Joseph's Orphanage and Nazareth House.

 

I feel because my mother was a young unmarried girl. Was why I was punished continuously, when I was a baby, right up through my teenage years to 24 years old, until I left.

Other children there were treated well. The ones who had no outsider to care for them and visit were at the mercy of the nuns.

 

It was at the time in the Roman Catholic Church, everywhere. Were the baby was the one who was punished for being born out of wedlock. And that the, "Illegitimate" children were regarded as the product of evil, so therefore had to be punished,

to have the evil removed. Or they would end up like their mothers.

I was told that I had bad blood in me, at the two Orphanages.

The Catholic Church has a lot to answer for, especial for my lost childhood.

The nuns told me, time and time again that I had the sins of my mother in me. And that They had to punish me, to get them out of me, as well as the devil

 

                               

                                    STIGMA of ORPHANAGE.


 

There was such a bad stigma attached to having being in an orphanage, it was always a Dirtv word. It was the next worst thing, to being "Illegitimate." I was both.

 

A young, unmarried pregnant girl would go away with her mother, to another part of the Country, to have her baby, who was then brought up as a sister or brother,

to the birth mother.

If the pregnant girl's parents did not want the girl to keep her baby, the child was put up for adoption, fostered out, or taken to an orphanage.

 

The rigid Victorian moral attitudes, was the lifestyle then. The social climate of the time was such, that the shame associated with "Illegitimate." Was that the baby was called a "Bastard," and was not tolerated.

The baby was the one who was at fault, so from then on, had no rights and was treated

like a criminal. The child's feelings were never considered.

 

Verbal sarcastic attack by the nuns and older girls were a every day accuracy, resulting in a lifetime of low self-esteem.

The nuns wore large Rosary beads on their 3inch wide belt, around their waist, to whack us with.

Didn't they know how one contradicted the other?

There were double standards in the orphanage, in the name of God.

I felt, really scared of anyone in authority all of the time.

 

It was so devastating, to be stripped, of all clothes, hair shaved off for any lice and nits. They used strong carbolic soap and roughly scrubbed us all over, as well as our hair. Imagine how after, when our hair was comb. The screams of the knots being pulled out through the teeth and then being slapped across the face, because we were crying,

 

We were given a different name, if any names were the same as another child already in the orphanage

 

"We had to been seen and not heard."

"Spare the rod and spoil the child" was another thing that was acted on. As well as. "Children in your position should be grateful."

Was a statement said over and over again.

 

The two Orders decided how they would bring up girls like me and gave me no skills, education, other than what suited their purposes so that, at the stage when I might have been expected to have ideas of my own. perhaps even encouraged to look at options and choose education for a useful future. I was kept fit only for what the Orders had in mind for me - domestic labour. I was made to be scared and kept in a state of ignorance of the world, of men, of money, of relationships and of love.

 

I was scared of myself because of the teaching that whatever I did deserved

only punishment. I was taught that I was doomed to hell because I was a child of my mother's sin and the nuns' punishment were for my sake in the hope of driving

out of me my mother's sin.

 

Each Sunday we would sit outside the front door to be adopted out. It was really awful sitting out there. Just waiting and waiting and wishing that this Sunday, maybe.

Someone will take my hand today and say.

You!    Come with me.

 

KITCHEN

 

I recall, being in the kitchen at 6am one Sunday morning

While everyone else was at Mass.

We would go to the kitchen every Sunday morning, on rainy days

Instead of walking over to the other convent for Mass. Mount Magdala Convent.

 

On this occasion there were twenty girls, unsupervised.

We heard a knock at the door and a man's voice outside.

All the girls ran out of the kitchen but me, I climbed onto a big glass cupboard. When the knocking ceased the other girls came back to help me, pulling me down.

 

My dress got caught on a nail and they pulled on my legs, Eventually pulling the cupboard over on top of me.

I was in the hospital for about six months, with a fractured skull. Mother Francis of Rome would come to see me.

 

Parts of the outer auricle along the sides, of both my ears, are missing. From when the class cupboard full on top of me, at St. Joseph's Orphanage.

I still get bad headaches. It gets that bad sometimes, as if my head would break open. It is like it would burst.

 

KITCHEN  BACK DOOR.

 

The following is a frequent practice repeated between the age of five and ten years. Until I left. To avoid this sequence I would try to hide in the toilets, by the back door of the kitchen. Mother Euphrasia would drag me out by my hair and ears.

It was exceedingly painful, but I did not cry aloud.

She would put me in a sack, tied the top of it and tell me that the pig man was Going to come and take me away.

 

My thoughts on these occasions were along the lines of.

"What have I done this time ?" "Is there no God to help me?"

He said. "Come little children unto me for I am mercy." But not for me.

I stayed in the sack for a long time. I would hear a car coming.

"Is it for me?"

"Don't do this."

"Help me someone please!"

I can't call out; the nun has hit me with a stick again!

The man is here. "Is he coming to get me?"

He and the nun talk and then she opens up the sack. I can't see for a while. I am told that it was because of what my mother had done that I was punished. "Oh mum, what did you do? that I should be treated this way."

 

I was locked in a room with no windows, which seemed like, three days and two nights. This room was also near the back door of the kitchen. Before I was put into the lobby, which it was called, Mother Euphrasia thrashed me. I don't know what I had done wrong.

Even if we put our toes over the line, we were whipped.