Saint Claires Convent/Pantasaph

A Memory of Pantasaph.

I was there in the convent along with my 2 sisters from 1955 to 1959. I truly sympathise with the children who experienced the terrible suffering as we did whilst placed there. My auntie was a friend of the nuns and instrumental in having us sent there when my mother was unable to cope. Josie (my older sister) was 9 years old when we arrived and fiercely protective of us. I was aged 6 years and my younger sister Bernie was almost 4. Bernie was fragile and delicate, having suffered polio as a toddler. I can never forget the haunting screams of Bernie when she was pulled from her bed and thrown into a cold bath by the sisters on night duty in our huge dormitory.Wetting the bed was a disgrace. Initially we were placed alongside each other in the dorm but this soon changed when Bernie was moved down to the cots at the far end of the dorm. I recall Josie wanting to race down and sort out the bullies, whilst I begged her not to for fear of consequences. Yes I have always felt like the coward in the middle and wish I had done more. There were many instances like this and the psychological, physical and emotional abuse continued throughout the four years we spent there. I can identify with the stories you have received from other inmates. I could never refer to the numerous children there as friends, as this was frowned on. The regime was to keep to yourself and not associate socially with family or others. Laughing loudly could bring a severe punishment. A beating with the hairbrush or coat hanger was a typical consequence for talking in the dormitory at night. Crying under the pillow and being sick was stifled with fear. The cane in the corner of classroom was said to be soaked in vinniger to instill a quiet compliance and conformity. Yes I remember sister Ann and sister Theresa. Bernie is no longer with us having died suddenly at aged 49. Her turbulent childhood and especially the fear of segregation from siblings contributed to her frailty. We always remained close and clingy afterwards. Fortunately I married a man in a million who has been my mainstay throughout adult life and my 2 beautiful children who I truly hope have not been adversely affected by the lack of love I displayed during there formative years. It was easy to control and dominate. Play was like a foreign language, but for a dear friend who has shown me normality of caring and sharing by example with her family since our children were toddlers. She is still my saving grace. My boss, (another most significant person) inspired and encouraged me to achieve more than I would ever believe, through hard work and study. I spent the last 25 years of my working life as a social worker. Later as a foster parent. The deprivation from childhood left its mark. I have no illusions. I could not have sustained such progress without the ongoing support from those around me. Josie married a very patient and supportive man. In my view she struggled with parenting similar to myself but her overprotective nature often caused her problems as she fiercely confronted any person in authority who she perceived to be mistreating her children albeit teachers or likewise. We have spoken occasionally of saint Claires but this is stressful and upsetting. The memories never go. That 4 years was blight on our lives. Nothing will ever erase the experience of repression and fear My heart goes out to the ones who shared our experience. I feel we may be the lucky ones to have survived, but many I know will understand the tragic circumstances of our beloved sister Bernie who never overcame her fear and remained anxious throughout the rest of her short life.