Children’s questions lead to a lesson in consideration
The girls in Mary Belle Andrews’ class at White Clover School did not exactly rejoice over Mary Belle’s anguish of spirit, but it fascinated them. On the great day just past, when Mary Belle had won everyone’s approval by her recitation of the Governor General’s message, she left the very minute she had spoken her piece.
She went out of the door “as if she had been shot from a gun and streaked across the fields on the dead run,” to quote Molly Moon’s eyewitness story. Her mother had not come to the party and the young sleuths of White Clover School nodded their heads knowingly: There was another family row.
On the following morning, Miss Moon arrived at the school early to be sure she was not missing anything. “I’ll bet her eyes will be red,” said she to Eva Clarke, who also came early. Molly was something of a specialist in the manifestations of grief because her father worked in the Evergreen Mortuary.
“No one can tell what scenes her young eyes have witnessed since we saw her. My mother knew a family once that threw knives at each other and the little girl in that family was so frightened once that her hair turned white in an hour.” Miss Moon shivered with delight.
Mary Belle walked in just as the bell stopped ringing. Her black hair lay down in waves on her well-shaped head and was held by a red velvet band. Her face bore no trace of tearmarks or grief; she looked like a little girl who had slept well, with windows open; who had eaten all her porridge, brushed her teeth, and had her homework done. There was even a smile on her face, faintly resembling the glow of a young author who had had a story accepted.
“She’s an actor,” said young Molly Moon grimly to herself, “that’s what she is, an actor like Katherine Hepburn. Her lips are smiling but her heart is breaking. She may fool teacher, but she can’t fool me.”
When the room was called to order, Miss Grant said they would spend a few minutes discussing the program of the day before. What good has it done? What did we learn from it? Then Miss Grant went on to explain that we must not stir up emotion, even love of country, and allow it to ebb away.
The very essence of democracy is that we can criticize our schools, our leaders, even our form of government. A democracy is like a family where everyone has an equal right to be heard. Then she drew on the board a rough map of the neighbourhood, marking the location of the school and the roads.
“This neighbourhood,” she said, “is a unit in the British Empire, which is made up of units like this all over the world. I’ve been hoping that the exercises yesterday, and particularly the Governor’s appeal, would suggest something to you. In Germany, nothing is suggested; it is either commanded or forbidden. In the Governor’s message yesterday, he spoke of what the children in other countries were doing. Do you remember? Were you listening?”
Yes, they remembered, and quoted what he had said about the children of China and Russia. Then came a diversion. One boy, Matt Terry, said he though the best thing about the party yesterday was the ice cream and cake, which brought a laugh as he hoped it would; and then he said he would like to ask a few questions.
“Why are we asked to save paper and string and pick up old iron when the government is throwing money away with both hands in paying huge salaries to officers and inspectors and sending soldiers from one province to another — why can’t the soldiers be trained in their own province. It runs into thousands of dollars to send men across the country like this — each one has a berth on the train and his meals in the diner, and I heard two men talking about it and they said that already there were 22 new millionaires in Canada since the war began. Why don’t they let these fellows pay for the gathering of the paper and the scrap iron?”
“Aren’t you glad you live in a democratic country, Matt,” said Miss Grant, “where you can speak right out like this? If you said half of that in Germany you would be arrested before you got home, but here you have done exactly the right thing in speaking out. And now I’ll answer some of your questions.
“The manager of a store is always paid more than the clerks because he has more responsibility, and it is not every man who has the ability to manage a store. The success of an army depends on its officers and I do not think they are overpaid. Moving soldiers from one province to another has a reason — special training is given in different places.
“It is easier to move the men than to duplicate training camps, and in any war, haste is a great consideration. I am glad to think that each soldier has a comfortable bed and good meals. I do not know of anyone who deserves it more. Now, in regard to the new millionaires, Matt, I’ll tell you now that that is not true, but in our arithmetic lesson I’ll tell you how the income tax works to prevent any men or company from piling up great fortunes. Now, has anyone else a complaint or a contribution?”
“My father and mother are Norwegians,” said Astrid Swanson. “Matt should spend a while in Norway to see how the Germans do things. My grandparents and uncles lived in Oslo and not a word have we heard from them since the invasion, but little bits of news come out when people escape in boats to England.
“This Christmas, the Germans demanded 90,000 Christmas parcels for their soldiers, and already the Norwegians have been robbed of food and blankets. I could tell Matt a lot of things which would surprise him. Anyway, if our government here spends money it is not lost — it goes to stores and bakers and farmers.”
“Thank you, Astrid,” said Miss Grant. “And now has any person else anything to say?”
Mary Belle Andrews raised her hand.
“Don’t be discouraged with us, Miss Grant.” she said. “The program yesterday did something in my family. When I was committing the Governor General’s speech to memory, I tried it on my father and mother to get their help and criticism, and last night my father went to town” — Molly Moon almost stopped breathing; at last she was going to breakdown and tell all — “to get a piece of machinery fixed.
“He was eating in a restaurant where a radio was playing and the Governor’s speech was rebroadcast. He listened to it, wondering why it was all so familiar, and then he said it stirred something in him and made him want to do something and he went right over to the post office and bought a whole set of the stamps in a folder for me. And now I feel I want to do something, too.
“In seven years this $4 will be $5, but there will still be hungry children somewhere, so I want to give this to the Red Cross — not from me but from the White Clover School, and I’m sure we can get one each week. Our country will have the use of the money and the Red Cross will be building up a fund for the years ahead. In seven years, we’ll all be grown up and able to work for ourselves. Sixteen of us can surely save or earn the 16 quarters each week and I think we’d all be proud in after years to think that our school did this.” Miss Grant’s face beamed. “Mary Belle, you did well yesterday when you delivered the Governor’s speech, but you have done better today, for you have translated it into action. And now I think it would be a good thing for us to have a discussion like this every Monday morning before we begin our work — where we can all speak out freely.
“And for a reward I am going to read you Robert Nathan’s great poem called Dunkerque — the story of a boy and girl who took their little boat the Sarah P across the channel and brought back 14 men. I know you will like this story, Matt, for every boy loves adventure; and you’ll like it, too, Molly, for it is a thrilling drama; a great epic of the sea and the courage of two ordinary English children.”
The White Clover school sat in silence, drinking in the story.
When the poem was ended, Matt was the first one to speak: “I’ll pick up scrap iron … I’ll do anything I can.”