Good Old School Days
Our Canada|August/September 2018

A love of learning early on led to a lifetime of teaching others

Margaret Tilbert
Good Old School Days

always liked school. It gave me a sense of security, a sense of belonging. When I was not yet old enough, I longed to follow my older sisters to school. I had no playmates at home as my younger sisters were just babies.

Mom told me I cried to be allowed to go to school, so when the time came and I was permitted to go, my older sisters Frances and Dorothy made room for me in the dog cart for the journey.

We were the only English-speaking family in a community of about 100 families of French-speaking people in Beresford, N.B., so my parents sent us to the nearest English school, three miles away in Dunlop.

We had two dogs called Gip and Red that pulled us through the woods along a dirt road to school every day. Gip was a friendly Collie cross-breed, while Red was an Irish Setter, appropriately named given his fiery red coat.

My father, being very resourceful, built us a cart with wheels as tall if not taller than I was.

When winter came, we travelled by sled. Sometimes our horses would pull it, but usually, if the road was clear, Gip and Red would do it. We were able to keep the dogs in the woodshed at school, where they could keep warm while waiting for our return trip home.

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