I could hardly wait for the first day of kindergarten. I had “visited” school on two separate occasions, both to my older sister’s fifth grade classroom. The first visit had included the afternoon recess followed by music class, the return of graded worksheets to Dorothy and her classmates, and a chapter of a continuing story that Mrs. McCabe, the teacher, had been reading to the class at the end of Friday classes. I liked recess because several of the girls in the class entertained me with extra turns at being propelled to exhilarating heights on the tall swings on the playground. The worksheets were boring and I couldn’t follow the story, not having heard the previous chapters. I liked the music class, mostly because the songs were familiar and I was able to sing along, and because the music teacher was the prettiest young woman I had ever seen. She had a beautiful soprano voice and closely resembled Katherine Grayson, an actress and singer I had seen in a movie not long before.

My second visit to the same classroom had lasted for an entire morning, beginning with “inspection” to demonstrate that we had clean hands, ears, teeth and handkerchiefs (all I considered personal matters and none of the teacher’s business, having nothing to do with learning.) Dorothy had taught me the Pledge of Allegiance and I proudly chimed in with the rest of the students. The arithmetic lesson included adding big numbers in long rows and I found it both confusing and fascinating. I was eager to find out more about that and didn’t want to wait until fifth grade. I resolved to ask Dad to show me how to do it.

I had also visited, for one entire school day, my cousin’s country school classroom but had been enamored by the quaintness of eight grades (and no kindergarten) in just two rooms with three teachers seeming to switch places at random. I didn’t know what was going on at any given moment. I didn’t know the games they played at recess and was glad when it was all over. All I’d learned was that I was glad I didn’t have to go to a country school!

Kindergarten had been helpful in accustoming me to rules and routines, but I didn’t especially enjoy first grade; mostly because, as I look back, I realize that it had been the teacher’s first teaching job and she had been extremely nervous and unsure of herself. Her inconsistent rules and discipline caused confusion and hurt to many of her charges, but those old wounds were, for the most part, smoothed over and forgotten under the loving and understanding care of Miss McDowell the following year. She made second grade one of my most memorable and happiest years of schooling. She seemed to remember what it was like to be seven and eight years old. She didn’t instruct as much as she shared secrets with us. For instance; to add 5 to 9, take one from the 5, making it a 4, then put the 1 in front of the 4. Presto! The answer is 14. From there, I managed to figure out that reversing the process worked equally well for subtraction. I still remember that trick when balancing my checkbook. Thank you Miss McDowell. It was a lot quicker and easier than memorizing or counting on my fingers which, for some reason, was a no-no, though many teachers today hand out ten beans to serve the same purpose. I wonder why they bother with beans or other tokens when fingers are always handy.

Miss McDowell was always enthusiastic, kind, sympathetic and patient. She made everything we studied interesting and fun and made me feel as if I were her favorite student – a certainty that I’m quite sure all of her students shared. Every year when we went to register for the new year, I got Mother to stop in Miss McDowell’s room to say hello. She always seemed delighted to see me and wanted to hear all about my summer vacation and baby sister. One year, the name on her door had been changed to Mrs. Johnson, but it was the same familiar face with the no-nonsense haircut behind the desk. I’ve often wondered if she retired from teaching, as so many young women did once they married and started a family. If she did, I bet she was a terrific mother, too!