When I was a student nurse,
I worked in a childrens hospital,
as part of my training.
It was here I learned a lot about dealing with children,
from an amazing lady who would never have any of her own.
The hospital was in inner city Dublin.
It was surrounded by flats,
which were inhabited by “true Dubs”.
Many who lived in those flats,
were among the most disadvantaged people,
living anywhere in Ireland.
Some had drink and drug problems.
Most were unemployed.
But many were doing a great job parenting,
under the most difficult of conditions.
I was sent to work in the Accident and Emergency Department.
It was incredibly busy every day.
However as well as the large number of children,
who came seeking help,
we also had children from the flats,
who played hide and seek, or chase,
all around the department as if in a playground.
These children were often mischievous,
and some of them were also known at times to be light fingered!
The “sister” in charge was a nun.
One of the most amazing people,
I ever encountered in my life.
Her patience and genuine concern for these children,
was something to witness.
She cared deeply for every one of them,
and knew them all by name.
On many occasions I saw her,
gather up these kids,
and sit them down in her office with a big bowl of Ice cream!
I remember many of my days working there.
Some filled with joy, others terrible sorrow.
One day that stands out though involved these kids,
and had nothing to do with treating the sick.
This particular day we were run off our feet,
and had little time for our usual banter with the locals.
Break time arrived and the word went out,
that all our handbags were gone!
These handbags had been stored,
in a locked cupboard.
The department sister was furious.
She gathered together all the local kids,
and told them that the handbags were missing.
“Do any of you know where they are?” she said.
They looked at each other shaking their heads,
feigned innocence on every face.
“Sister, you doant tink we robbed ye, do ye?,
said one eight year old in his best Dublin accent.
She did not answer him,
instead looking at the motley crew she said quietly,
“I am warning every one of you,
if those bags are not back here in five minutes,
you will never again play in this department,
and there had better not be one thing missing from any of them!”
Much muttering and protestation of innocence were heard.
“Ah sister”, they said “We didn’t rob notin”.
She let a roar at them and they disappeared.
In no time at all I heard a clatter of running feet,
and our little gang returned.
“Sister, sister”, they roared.
Out she came and they gathered around her.
“Sister we found the bags” they proudly announced.
Seven little pairs of hands,
held up the “lost” bags.
“Wow, said the sister, where did you find them?”.
“Jus lyin round de corner”, said one small boy.
“Is anything missing?”she asked.
“Notin sister, its a miracle!”, said the eldest boy
One little boy, a regular player in the department repeated,
“Sister it really is a miracle!”.
I smiled to myself.
I had worked with many other sisters,
who would not have got this result.
This amazing lady continued to work in that department for many years.
A much loved member of the community.
An inspiring “sister”,
and even “mother” to many.
A lady, a nun,
who taught me lessons on life, love, laughter and children,
that I could never learn from a book.
photo credit: RaGardner4 via photopin cc
photo credit: www.Azety.fr via photopin cc
My thoughts on a page. 
Little Irish hooligan bastards! The whole lot of ’em!
Ye the wee feckers!
Beautiful post. I would love to hear more of your time there. ;o)
Thank you. I have so many stories, maybe I will write them down someday.
Please do!
Thank you for the encouragement. I wouldn’t know where to start!
Just like you did today – with the first memory on top 😉
Thanks!
I love reading your stories. So heart-warming! Maybe you could compile them into a little memoir 🙂
Thank you. To me they are just memories of some mad or funny days. I enjoy telling them but never thought of writing them until I began this blog and was trying to think of a post!
Isn’t it a different feeling when you actually write down your memories? Somehow when I write it down, it feels more complete…
Most of what I have written I did not plan or pre think, I just wrote as I would speak. I am not sure if I planned to write a story would I write it differently. My mum always says of my brother, who is a great story teller, “there is hair on that tail”. This means that he embellishes the story as he tells it. He makes them wonderfully entertaining and even if you were present for the event he describes, you may not recognize it! I have a million memories in my head, very few on paper. Your comment as you can see really made me think!
😉
a lovely story !
Yes it was a big wake up for a girl reared under “normal” circumstances to see what was normal for others. Thanks.
What a beautiful story 🙂 She knew what really mattered to the kids – they obviously knew which side their bread was buttered. She found the real balance between authority and being an secure escape world for these children: they respected her. I bet they haven’t forgotten her either…..
Yes she was one of those people who leave a real mark, even in a short period of time. We all loved and admired her. Of all the places to work in the hospital Accident and Emergency was everyones favourite, because of her. Its amazing where we learn our lessons in Life, a good teacher, a chance meeting, an event, or a lady like this.
Beautiful post tric, as always!
I have nominated you for three special awards, and you can see the details at the link http://dshenai.wordpress.com/2013/05/21/nominating-10-brilliant-bloggers-for-3-awesome-awards/.
Congratulations on well deserved nominations, and hope that you will accept these awards. Thanks a million in advance. ttyl. -Deo
Thank you so much. You are too kind. I am delighted to accept them and will head over to see your post. It might be a little time before I accept formally but I really appreciate your nominating my blog. Thanks again.
You are most welcome. Thanks for accepting these awards.
Their daily visits were probably worth more to them than the contents of your bags.
They came to us for many things that their moms should have done for them, like when they fell, or had a fight with their friends. They were quite wild, and each had a favourite nurse they would go to. I really enjoyed them.
What fun memories you have. I love to read about them. Thanks!
\o/
I greatly enjoy writing them. Thank you.