Isn’t it funny that as I age, I remember things that happened, long, long ago. These are things I hadn’t thought of in years.
Today I remembered a day from kindergarten when I was a student. I went to Catholic School.
One day the teacher (a nun in her full dress habit) decided we would take turns singing songs we knew. She asked who knew a song they’d like to sing? I raised my hand along with others and eventually, she called on me.
It was with great pride that I stood up before my classmates and with my arms outstretched like I’d seen the woman do on Ed Sullivan a few nights before, I launched loudly into the words to the song she sang. As I belted out “Let me go, let me go, let me go, Lover” . . . the nun got a look on her face that I never forgot. She told me that was quite enough and to sit down! I thought I must not sing as well as the other children.
Later when it was time to go home, my teacher, the nun, gave me a note to give to my mother. Well, my mother was at work, so I gave it to my grandmother who took care of me.
She got a similar look on her face as she looked at the paper the nun had sent home.
“What kind of song did you sing in that classroom today?” she demanded to know as she grabbed me by the arm and pulled me close to her.
“I sang ‘Let Me Go’,” I told her.
“SING IT!” she demanded.
Oh, no, now she’ d know I couldn’t sing too. But with my arms outstretched like that woman had done on Ed Sullivan, I started to belt out, “Let me go, let me go, let me go, Lover,” . There went that same look on my grandmother’s face.
“You did NOT!” she said sternly.
“Yes, I did.”
I never did again, I can tell you that. It was years before I knew what I’d done wrong.
My mother, who found it slightly amusing, when she got home and heard the story, sat me in her lap and said that was a song for grownups. Children didn’t sing that song.
Here it is if some of you are not familiar with the words: