LITTLE ME AND SWEET BLACKBIRDS

 I'm not sure if my mother and I took the bus or with my father in the car.  I only remember holding my mother's hand as we walked down the block to Mary Immaculate Hospital.  I can see myself in my mind's eye; a little girl with blond braids, Buster Brown shoes and a little dress.  We walked along a park with big Chestnut trees and people walking inside a fence.  I believe the park and hospital were between Jamaica Avenue and Hillside Avenue in Jamaica, Queens, New York.  We knew the park as King's Park.    

As we  entered the building, I don't remember how many steps were there.  Somehow I remember only 1 or 2.  I didn't feel scared.  I just went with Mom.  

Entering the lobby was a big deal!  There was a giant statue in the middle of the lobby.  I suspect now it must have been Virgin Mary as the hospital was named Mary Immaculate.   The lobby had a funny smell I later learned was  ether.  The reception desk was straight ahead and on each side of that desk, I remember a curving, pinkish marble staircase.  There were people going up and down and they looked like birds!  Because I lived in a neighborhood near Saint Gregory's Catholic Church, I knew they were Nuns.  There seemed to be a great deal of activity in that lobby. 

I don't remember how we got to the pediatric floor.   My mother and a very old nun  sat with me at a child's table and chair set in front of a very, very tall window.  The table and my chair was backed up to  a radiator.  I remember the window went all the way to the ceiling.  I felt very small.  My mother and the old Nun was saying my mother was going home now.  I was going to be with the Sisters in a big bedroom with other children.. Then my mother held me up to the window and said, 

"Can you hear the music and drums?  There's a parade going on down in the street.  

Maybe she said,  "That's for you!"  I don't remember.  I only learned  parents weren't allowed to come back for a week or so since children had trouble getting 'adjusted' and settling them in without visitors was supposed to be good. 

My last memory of that day was one of sweet young Nuns helping me to finish my vegetables (it was spinach)  and I  was in a room with 6 beds (or more).  I was less than 60 months old on this Earth and "taken away from my family"

To this day, I can not watch a parade or hear the drums and see the flag without feeling weepy.  I thought many felt that way but sometimes I wonder if it had something to do with that time in my life.

Next Chapter ......VISITS THROUGH THE YEARS.