August

 Karin

I remember my first day at school very well. It was summer 1942. In Germany it is custom that kids get a 'Zuckertüte', a huge colourful bag filled with lollies to make the start of the serious side of life a bit sweeter. I also remember the dress I had on: my Red-Riding-Hood dress Mutti had made. Our teacher was Fräulein Herbener. She had a  beautiful smile. I liked her. In the first year we had lessons for two hours only each day. We started to learn the alphabet still using the old Süterlin script and wrote on small slates with chalk. Sometimes the packed lunch rubbed on the slate in the school bag and the home work was smudged or obliterated. I found homework hard. All my letters were always crooked and often I had to redo my homework. That did not bother me too much. I just wrote the letters and words again and again as best as I could, but they never turned out much better. So after a while my parents and teacher accepted it - no, they did not give up on me. For my handwriting I always got the lowest mark. That did not bother me at all because in numbers and story telling I always got good marks. Within the first year of school, the system was changed and we started to use Italic letters. That was so much easier to write and also to read, but my handwriting did not improve.