This was no ordinary boarding school. Originally it was started as a day nursery catering for working mothers' children. There is quite a history to its gradual growth to today's boarding school which is closely related to its founder, Miss Leila. But I am not going to talk about its history. What I want to talk about are my very first impressions, a little about the school itself and lastly about the children.

The Caldecott as I remember was for me like a huge gate to safety and security. My sister and I had travelled from Czechoslovakia on our own. It was the year 1939, May, a few months before the outbreak of the Second World War. My sister was eleven, I was nine. At home I remember the Nazis marching down Vencleslaw Square and everybody wearing gas-masks and grown-ups talking in low, sad voices. Looking back now I had this strong impression of walking into security, kindness and safety as soon as we stepped into that huge (as it seemed to me then) stone building, The Caldecott Community. It was like being dropped into a new, wonderful world. I shall never forget my first birthday. The evening before, I noticed a lot of whispering and the children looking at me, to make sure I was not listening. In the morning as I walked into the dining room I saw a reflection of a candle in the big oak door. It was a kind and warm reflection and to this day I don't know how I knew that this reflection belonged to my birthday. I hardly spoke a word of English so even if the Caldecott rituals of birthdays had been explained, I would not have understood. When I actually entered the dining room and walked to my seat there was a cake with a candle and lots and lots of presents. Not new, some even tatty but all very special and exceptional that had been turned out of lockers the evening before. I could not express my pleasure and surprise but I felt very, very happy. I wore a broad grin on my face all day; the only way I could show my gratitude. Later birthdays, although the traditional birthday cake and candle were there, were never the same. I had mastered the language and taken kindness for granted.

 

(Hana Fried's typescript story received during Caldecott Association Canterbury Cathedral reunion 2nd Sept. 2007. Catalogue number SA/CA/HFD/01)