SAPOS

  EVA'S STORY

LIFE AS A BARNARDO'S CHILD

This is the early years story of my Nan, Eva Gwendoline Dickinson and my Great Aunt Mary. Eva wanted to write down her memoirs before she passed away in 1998. The story you are about to read are Eva's own words and is only a small selection of what she and her Sister went through during their childhood years.

Here is Eva's Story:

“The Hand of Fate.
When I was very young my dears,
When I was very young.
The hand of fate did weave a plot
Of that which was to come
Swiftly weaned from mothers breast,
Learnt first to crawl and then to test
Those limbs so soon to run
The bond of love which held us close
Did nought to stem the tide
As time ran out and mothers child
Was taken from her side
Oh sister did you wonder?
Oh brother did you fear?
Did you miss your little sisters?
Did you shed a little tear?
As a new life for us was promised
The life decreed by fate
Our home and family forgotten
We entered our new estate
Like leaves upon the water,
We moved from here to there
Never stopping, always changing
Never finding love to share.”

(One of my Nan's Poems – she was a great lover of poetry and often wrote her own)

I was born here, at west Bromwich, just about a month, after mother and father moved to market Drayton. I t was a very industrial area, and well named, the “black country”. There were large chimney stacks on large industrial places and the smoke billed out all day. On wet days (which were frequent in the Midlands) the smoke would be thicker than ever, seeming to make a dense fog and all that black smoke would descend downwards with the rain, bringing with it, a horrid, acrid smell. Our clothes always smelt so smoky, even on a nice sunny day. I hated it, especially when I went back to visit mom, some twelve years later, as she was still living in the same house.

After my father died, my mother was suddenly left with five young children to look after, with no hope of any money coming in from anywhere at all. Two of her children were at school, the eldest had great promise and was about to enter grammar school. Another showing good promise and two rather young- Mary the youngest already suffering from malnutrition and rickets. My mother herself was suffering from rheumatics in her feet and legs. If she didn't get some money, she would be likely to lose the house from non payment of rent.

I had already started school locally, so that left mom free except from the youngest. For a few hours each day, she took the baby with her when she found some domestic work and we all managed as best we could, but life was very hard. Suddenly, one day, fathers two sisters came on the scene, they kept a boarding house at Becks Hill on Sea. They arranged for the two youngest children, Mary and myself, to be accepted into Dr. Barnardo's homes. I t was all planned and paid for by them, although, Mary nor I, ever remember seeing them at all. I suppose they were our benefactors. It all happened very quickly. There was suddenly a lot of visitors at our home asking lots of questions and mom became more and more distressed. I can see her under our living room table, cleaning the floor of breadcrumbs (or “supposed” breadcrumbs) or dust or anything she could, to keep her away from these people who kept turning up and asking questions about Mary and myself, how we needed treatment, how they could help us. I am quite sure, that my mom never wanted her two little girls to be taken away, but, she didn't have a chance against these people. I can still remember how frightened I was to be sat on the table in the living room, while some doctor immunised me against small pox. It was such a scary thing, it seemed to me they were going to stamp a red hot iron on my arm, so I screamed at them, but they still carried on, and the day soon came, when two very bewildered little children were whisked away in a taxi.

Eva Gwendoline age 4yrs 9 months         Mary age 1yr 11 months

The Village Home Reception House

Mary and I both under five years old, arrived at the Barnardo's village home around Christmas time,1916. We were ushered into the reception area and had the surprise of our small lives as we entered the waiting room. There in the hall was the tallest and widest Christmas tree ever seen! I t was decorated from the fairy on the top branch to the parcels on the floor around it. It was covered with lovely coloured baubles and decorations and brightly burning candles. Oh what a stunning picture it made, I just could not take my eyes off it. Someone asked me if I would like to give each child a parcel off the tree, a small but thrilling task, as I saw it. It felt wonderful, as I offered each child a present and whispered “Happy Christmas”, as I did it. I saw that my sister had a lovely soft toy so I opened my own present, which turned out to be a paintbox and I was so pleased with it. Then a lady asked if anyone would like to sing a Christmas carol, and as I seemed to be the oldest child there, they asked me to sing for them. I can remember I sang “Away in a manger”- my first audience! As I came to the end of my carol, I looked round for my sister and discovered whilst I had been so preoccupied with singing for them, a nurse had come in and taken my sister to the hospital. She had been suffering for a long time from malnutrition and rickets and so it came to be, that we were separated, for the very first time. Both of us were very upset by this. Whilst Mary was undergoing treatment, I was taken to a doctor and thoroughly examined. I remember this quite vividly and was quite unnerved by it all, however, I passed the examination and was left to wait for my sister to recover. Its very strange, but I can't remember anything at all about where I slept at this time. I know it was called “The Barnardo's Village Home for Girls” and it was situated near London. It was called the village home because it was set up like a village. It had a large village green, its own school, a church, and hospital with various other places where older girls were taught a number of skills. It also had a village clothes store ( a wonderful place) which I remember quite well. Rows and rows of shelves and cubbyholes with lovely new underwear, jumpers and skirts, coats, woollens, nightwear, slippers and shoes. It was all stacked in neat piles on the shelves. They gave me a lovely brown coat and a blue woollen hat, two pairs of shoes, and everything else I would need for my new life, and eventually I was reunited with Mary when she was sufficiently recovered. I remembered she also went into the clothes store and was given a lovely new bonnet, tied with a blue ribbon, and a nice blue coat along with her other things she needed. So after about four months at the village home in London, we were ready to be sent away for fostering. Both wearing our lovely new outfits, we were taken to the Great Western Railway Station at Paddington. The huge train steamed into the station, stopping noisily with a great hiss. We were handed over to the guardsman who was now in charge of us. He took us to the guards van, closed the great doors and we were on our way. It was the springtime of 1917, so we found ourselves, two very small girls, sat side by side in the guards van of a huge train, travelling from Paddington station and heading West. Mary was crying a lot, she was just two years old, and of course, she wanted her mother. I tried my best to cheer her up, and put my arms around her, telling her not to cry. But I too was missing them and my family, and we had no idea where we were going. We were warmly dressed in our new outfits and our large box of belongings, was sitting in the van beside us. We both wore large ladles on our coats, with our names on, and the name of the lady who was to meet us when we got off the train. The time went quite quickly, but we were both feeling a bit tired. It had been a long exciting day for us both, and I was wondering what it would be like at my new home. I can still recall the taxi ride from Chalford Hill to Painswick. At the time, it seemed like a long trip. Miss Picton Turberville sat in the back of the car with my sister Mary and myself. Nervously curled up in the corner together, feeling rather apprehensive as we neared the bottom of Painswick Hill and our new foster home. The lady from Dr. Barnardo's thanked the driver and we all got out of the car and we were soon being greeted by our new mother.

I was almost fourteen years old, and would be leaving school, and would have to go back to the Barnardo's Village Centre. As Mary was two years younger than me, I expected to be sent back alone, but when the large black taxi appeared once more, it was to take us both. We were taken to the Village Home at Barkingside: Mary to Craven Cottage; and myself to a newly built house called Meadow Cottage. Mary was sent to the village school for two years to finish her education, after which she had some training in domestic service. It was common practice with all fostering that we must return to the Barnardo's village home to be trained in domestic science or office work once we had reached the age of fourteen. The whole place was set out like a small village with a school, church, hospital, various huts for recreation and a store and the centre was made up with large, well-kept rose beds and flower beds, which surrounded the village green. The flower beds were always full of lovely flowers and were always the big attraction on “Barnardo's Day” or “Gala Day”. The girls used to give a exhibition of formation dancing, which had been practised for weeks beforehand and the boys, were brought in from the boys home to entertain in the form of a brass band and also had hand bell ringing. The soldiers, sailors and air cadets, joined the celebrations with the most wonderful marching formations and everyone enjoyed these special days enormously. The cottages we lived in were all opened up, and on show to everyone, and we all worked very hard the week prior to Barnardo's Day. I n the winter, all the doors of the cottages were thrown open to Father Christmas who had sacks and sacks of goodies for us. They were piled on lorries and cars which were headed by a jolly Father Christmas. The village green was also known as the green lawn and was always well looked after. I had learnt to enjoy and recognise the plants and flowers during the time I spent with Auntie at Painswick and with Barnardo's.

We were all kept very busy at Barnardo's. There was a large hut where you could join in girl guide or do other activities. It seemed I was destined for domestic service and was placed to work in the kitchens of the Governors house and learned more about cooking and waiting on tables. And it was quite pleasant really and we thought it was a great honour to be thus trained.

When I was about fifteen years old, I went through a rather worrying time and was unhappy for a while. It all began when a number of girls were lined up and were approached about going to live in Australia. We were asked some mathematical and general knowledge questions and then came the question. “How would you like to go and live in Australia?” My answer was an emphatic no! I said I would not leave my sister who was much too young for such a venture. And I also explained that as soon as I was old enough, I wanted to go and find my real mother. The “powers that be” seemed to acknowledge this and did not try to persuade me, but I had learnt from past experience that my life was in someone else's hands. And for a while I expected that big, black taxi to arrive and carry me off. Thankfully, it never happened. I was given about six shillings a month for my work at the governors house and were allowed the occasional outings, unaccompanied. When I was sixteen years old, I was summoned to the governors house and was told I should begin to think about finding employment. I caused a bit of a stir when I told all those present a t a meeting, that I would like to go and find my real mother. To my surprise, they said, of course I should see my mother if that's what I really wanted, they also added that they did not think it was a good idea.

My mother by that time had re-married and had another large family by her second husband, however, I think they knew I was quite determined to find her so they gave me the address and money for a few weeks stay. After this I was to return to the home and consider taking up a position in London, where there was an opening for me in domestic service. I agreed to this, thanking them very much for their kindness. And so I set off on the train to the Midlands, on a journey that I had dreamt of for many years.

I hope Eva's story has given you some insight into how Barnardos has become one of the major children's charities in this country and long may it continue! Phil Hemming ('The Likes Of Us' director)

(Thanks to Dani for typing all this out for me!!)

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