Nuns Called My Son Marcelino

If both parents have to work, what happens to their children? Wanting what was best for my son, I enrolled him in a Catholic pre-school run by nuns.

Queen of Heaven Orphanage
Around 1966 it became a pre-school run by
Mother Cabrini nuns.

The large stone building had at one time been an orphanage on Federal Blvd. Now that it was a pre-school, I placed my son in the care of the nuns. The day began with holy mass and I felt confident he would be well taken care of, learn about his religion, and make new friends.

The first day when I dropped him off he was the first student to arrive.  He sat on a round metal merry go round and never moved.  I watched from the second floor as he sadly stared at the ground.   My heart ached for my baby.  The nun seeing my anguished face said, "He will be all right.  Once other children arrive he will begin to play."  My inclination was to go down and grab my child and run out the door with him.  I did not want him to suffer and he did not look happy.  The nun continued reassuring me and she convinced me he would be all right.  I cried all the way to work.

At 5:15 p.m., I picked him up and found him to be barefooted. "Oh, your son ran into the area where we are blacktopping and we had to chase him all over the tar.  His socks are black and even though we tried washing them, we could not remove all the sticky black mess."  The nun explained this to me as she handed me his shoes and stiff dirty socks.

When I asked him why he had taken off his shoes and run in the tar, he laughed and said something about how the nuns were chasing him.  It was a funny mental picture to see a little boy being chased by nuns, with veils flying and rosaries clicking, as they tried to catch him!

The following day, was difficult to leave him as I hugged and kissed him goodbye. "I'll be back before you know it, " I told him.

After work when I went to pick him up, a nun met me at the door. "Your son disappeared today and we could not find him."  My question was, "What do you mean disappeared....was there no one watching him?"  She said, "All of a sudden, he was no where to be found."  A sick feeling crawled into my stomach and before I could say anything the nun continued, "Don't worry, he is fine. We found him in the nun's dorms.  Somehow, he got on the elevator and ended up where the nuns sleep.  We found him fast asleep on one of the beds." At this point I wondered about what kind of supervision the children had, yet I did not say anything.  I was just happy my baby was okay.

When I asked my son about how he got to the dorms, he said, "I got on an elevator and pushed some buttons.  When the doors opened I saw the beds so I laid down and fell asleep."

The third day, when I took my son back to pre-school, I felt uncomfortable leaving him but I had to go to work and had no choice.  I reasoned that nothing more could happen.  The nun informed me they were now calling my son Marcelino for a character in a movie named Marcelino, Pan y Vino. The story is about a mischievous boy who lives in a monastery and Marcelino plays all sorts of tricks on the monks.

After work, once again I was confronted by a nun. "Your son somehow got out of the building and was found trying to cross Federal Blvd.  Luckily, someone saw him before he got out into the busy street."  "How could he get out of the building, wasn't anyone watching him?" The nun went into a long explanation about how they had just opened the pre-school and everyone was learning their roles.  I explained to my son about the dangers of leaving the building and asked him why he had gone outside. His large brown eyes looked at me as he said, "I was going to Grandma's house."

I entered the Principal's office and told her that I would no longer be bringing my son to pre-school at their facility.  I think the nun was as glad as my son at hearing the news. We teased my son that he was a pre-school drop out!*

Years later, my son told me he hated "that place." When I see the size of the building, the many rooms and long dark corridors, I can understand how a little boy might be frightened.

My Mother took over watching my son while I went to work and everyone lived happily ever after!
(Well maybe not happily ever after, but it sure makes for a good ending!)

*I had read that children who attended pre-school did better in school later on, so a few days a week I enrolled him at Wooden Shoe Pre-School. He graduated in class of 1969!

Mr. Joe congratulates
 my five year old son as he
 graduates from
Wooden Shoe.