We rise in the dark (no electric lights) and make our way downstairs.  By the light of the kerosene Aladdin lamp we eat our porridge, make two sandwiches each (with homemade jam, homemade cheese; or sometimes peanut butter – never meat).  In the winter we walk along the road.  To get to our school it takes one hour to walk one and a half miles south and then the same distance west.

Warm, mostly wool clothes keep us comfortable. We do not know about fashion.  For girls, wearing slacks is an unknown.  Woolen stockings and mittens knit by Mother on a knitting machine, fleece lined bloomers, coats worn over skirts or dresses, toques and felt boots keep us comfortable.  One family we walk with does not fare as well.  A small boy often cries because his hands are cold.  I put my mitts over his and then push the hand with which I carry my books into the coat front and the other in my pocket.  School bags carried on one’s back do not exist.

Often in the morning one of us cannot find mittens or socks.  It seems that Mother is always the one who finds lost articles.  She methodically goes through all the clothes that have been thrown on a small cot near the stairs and comes up with the lost article.  I wonder how she cares for such a large family and remains so calm.

On our long trek to and from school we learn about nature.  A flock of grouse or partridges take off as we approach.  Canada geese and cranes call from the skies and remind us of the season.  We welcome them in the spring and say goodbye in the fall.  A meadowlark greets us with its song.  Now and then we meet rabbits, skunks, porcupines, but usually just lots of gophers.  We know where lady slippers and shooting stars grow and watch for their appearance.  Mother is delighted when in the early spring, (before the garden is planted), we bring home morels or wild onions.  She will sauté the mushrooms in sour cream.  Mmm!  Delicious!  The onions will be used in soups or chopped over mashed potatoes or meat.

In the spring and fall we walk across farms; like following a hypotenuse on a right-angled triangle.  It reduces our walking distance by almost a mile.  At the end of our farm we cross the fence into the Huculak farm, and then make our way through dense bushes, cross a bog and we are at the Yurko farm.  When traversing through fields of grain, we walk in single file to avoid trampling the grain.  In the spring the grain shoots are short and green.  When we return in the fall the tall grain is a golden brown.  And then the stooks appear.

On hot days when we return from school, we stop at the well in the Yurko farmyard to quench our thirst.  We draw a pail of water from the well, lean it and drink right from the pail.  We fear Mr. Yurko, a big, burly man with a big nose.   But one day he hangs an enameled cup on a nail on the well for our use.  He is a kind man after all.

The school day runs from 9:00 A.M. to 4:00 P.M. with one hour for lunch and two fifteen minute recesses; no playground supervision.

The school bell rings.  We stand by our desks and recite the ‘Lord’s Prayer’.  As we face the Union Jack that hangs above the front blackboard we sing ‘God Save the King’.

The room is large with an oiled floor and furnished with rows of double desks.  Little panes of glass cover the whole east side.  The front and west walls are all blackboard except for a window at the back of the west wall.

Our library, a cupboard in a corner has glass doors and three shelves containing about 50 books.  A stove shaped like an oil drum lies on top of supports.  It occupies the center area near the back.  To prevent accidents, a thick aluminum shield surrounds it on three sides.  In the winter large blocks of wood are stacked in the boys’ cloakroom.  We have no coal.

The teacher’s desk at the front of the room contains two important items: the daily register and a strap.  When we line up behind the desk to take turns reading aloud from our readers our teacher sometimes leans his chair backwards and rests his feet on the top of the desk.
When I start school there are 42 pupils attending.  The senior pupils, (grades seven and eight) sit in the row nearest the windows.  First graders are on the dark opposite side.

We sit down.  Two senior pupils are health inspectors for the week.  They walk up and down the rows and check each child for cleanliness and neatness.    They check hands and nails, ears, neck, hair and handkerchiefs.  (Kleenex is still unknown).  Some of today’s (2006) hairstyles that we see on television would not pass the inspection.  When it is my turn to be health inspector I notice a boy pull a neatly folded handkerchief from his shirt pocket.  It has been folded and unfolded many times.  It is obvious that its main purpose is for the inspection.    When his nose drips, he simply draws his arm across to wipe it.  Next, we report current events.

Boys’ and girls’ outhouses are a fair distance from the school; one on either side of a knoll.  Trips to the outhouse are brief when temperatures are extremely cold.  During pleasant days, however, we prefer to take our time and sing something like “… the hills are alive…” rather than rush back to the classroom. 
The first time I see a flush toilet is when I am thirteen years old and go to the town school.  At first I am not sure about its use and operation.

At the beginning of the school year we are given textbooks for arithmetic, spelling and reading.  For the higher grades, the teacher has assignment pages written on the blackboard.  He works with the primary grades first and then moves up, with pupils marking the previous day’s assignments.  As needed, he introduces new concepts. 

When I am in seventh grade he sometimes asks me to go to the blackboard near the back to help the three boys in my grade

All core subjects are treated in this manner.  However, classes are often combined for subjects like health, social studies, science and music.

Our water comes from a pump in the yard.  Winter mornings, a large pot is filled with water and set on the stop of the stove.  By noon it is hot.  The school system provides us with cans of cocoa.  Each family takes turns to bring a quart jar of milk to add to the cocoa.  Families that have more milk bring more for tastier cocoa.  For variety, sometimes we exchange a half sandwich with another pupil. 
One day I decide to save a half sandwich to eat on the way home from school.  It gives me energy to walk the three miles.  But one day, my brown paper lunch bag is not on the cloakroom shelf where lunches are kept.  It continues to disappear every now and then.  Someone else is hungry too.

In the winter we play football or ‘Fox and Goose’.  In summer it is softball, rounders, tag, or hide and seek.  Neighboring schools, Desjarlais, about five miles west or Ispas on the east come to our school on a Friday afternoon to play softball. They arrive in the back of a farmer’s truck or in a wagon.  Our school takes part in a juni0r high girls’ softball tournament in the town of Willingdon.  Because we are a country school we are permitted to have up to three boys on our team but they should not play key positions.  My brother Nick (in eighth grade), hits several home runs.  Our pitcher, Elizabeth Kureluk performs with a ‘mean’ and swift delivery.  We win the game!  Our opponents are embarrassed and angry.  “Not fair”, they complain.
I am in primary grades when a health team visits our school.  Each child in turn gets a ‘scratch’ on the upper arm – smallpox vaccination.  A small boy is frightened. He runs out and hides behind the school.
By the time I am in sixth grade our library situation improves.  The school system establishes a ‘traveling’ library.  Every two or three months, a wooden box about the size of a small trunk and full of books  arrives from the Desjarlais School.  The box we have is sent on to Ispas.  I am delighted with the new reading material.

Before the Christmas concert boards and supports stored in the barn are brought to the school and a stage is erected.  Sheets are used for curtains.  We have no electricity so neighbors lend us gas lamps that are well pumped before the concert for good light all evening.  Benches are borrowed from homes for extra seating.  Christmas concerts are a must.  We have one every year.

Several days after my studies at the Deep Lake School are over for good, our beloved school mysteriously burns down.  Because over the years the pupil population declines, a smaller building is quickly built.  More modern materials are used.  But sadly, it is not the same.

In a country school setting pupils do not get the ‘one on one’ attention that one might expect in town schools where one teacher is responsible for one grade.  Because the teacher in a country school works with many grades, pupils learn to work on their own.  One has to admire teachers who commit to country schools.  Soon after the first day of school an understanding is established towards working independently.  Do I feel cheated to have been at a country school?  Never!