Agnes Cecelia Kozlowski
— an autobiographical memoir

[Teenage years in the orphanage]

 p19  So by telephone the matter was settled. Friday evening the Superior came out to the children and she spoke to the sister in charge. All the girls have been seated near the long table studying. I have been called out and was taken aside. The Superior asked me if I would like to live with Miss Urban instead of walking there and back again daily. I have thought it over as going to the seventh grade would mean more studies and I wouldnt have to much time during the evenings if I would have to walk every day, so I said I would try and see what it would be like. So that Saturday I have had things set aside for my use by the nun and placed into boxes. Then off to my new home for some time. It was kind of hard to get used to; since I have been constantly with the children and accustomed to routined supervision. But I got used to Miss Urban. At first for about three months when I have served her dinner in the dinning room, I would eat in the mean time in the kitchen. Then during the summer she told me I would have my meals together with her. In the orphanage we were allowed only one metal deep dish, first you had your soup, and after you finished that your second serving was placed in the same dish. When you eaten everything your desert was put into the same dish, and that was the way we were trained. Now to eat the proper way with separate dishes even made the food taste better. Many times the children didnt like what was served in the home, and couldnt manage to push it down, so if you havent finished the second serving, your desert went into the same bowl and you had to eat everything then, although it looked like a feeding pen for the hogs. Many times we would open up the window and unhook the screen and throw the food on the lawns for the birds but it didnt take long for some one to squeel what was going on. In one case money was on hand when parents would come or relatives to visit. So if you eat all my beans Ill give you a dime and I'll eat all your potatoes, or spinach. Gradually Miss Urban would teach me very gently how to use the knife and the fork and how to cut the meat. She had a paralized arm and wore a long sleeved blouse or dress at all times. Her home had to be spick and span, since she was an owner of three printing presses, one in Perth Amboy, N. J. Another in Elizabeth, N. J. and another if which I cant recall they were all polish publications. Many times her reporters would come over so she demanded a clean and beauti­ful home.

 p20  My routine ran in this manner. I would rise about six, wash, make my bed, dress, and to go to prepare breakfast for Miss Urban and to bring in to her room. She would enjoy it in bed. In the mean time I would eat a bite, and run the vacuum down stairs and dust as fast as possible as I had to wash the dishes before I left for school. I would leave the house about eight thirty and reach school just in time. After school the washing, on Mondays, then ironing to be done on Tuesdays, general cleaning of the house on Wednesday from top to bottom, and inspection took place when she came home from the printing offices. She taught me how to cook also so the supper had to be prepared just so. By the way I had to come home daily for dinner and prepare myself something, and if Miss Urban been home to get it ready for her. She didnt touch a single thing. Well I have been there since September and Christmas was approaching, I have gone to the orphanage on that day after we had dinner together with her secretary. Good days came and went I have been lonesome and couldnt really talk to her since she dealt with her files and papers. So on Sunday afternoons I would go to see the children and had to return to fix supper for six. For Easter she Miss Urban bought me a suit and shoes with cubin [Cuban] heels, well, I thought then that I was really growing up. Confirmation day came and her secretary was my God mother. Once in a while she would come over and discuss matters, and would sleep over night since we had three bed rooms in the house; it was a very pretty home and in a better (richer) section of town. For that day after Confirmation she took me to a drug store to give me a treat, I wasnt ever in one to enjoy a soda, so she asked what would I like. I had to admit that I didnt know what to order, so she made the order of an ice cream soda. When it was brought to the table I watched every move of Louise, how she took her napkin, then held her spoon and mixed up the contents and began to sip the delicious treat. While enjoying our moments she handed me a box beauti­fully wrapped. I didnt know should I open it or not so she told me I could look and see if I liked it or not. I certainly did like it, it was a watch and tears came to my eyes as I said thank you so very very much. I didnt have it for long it fell and broke as some one stepped on it in the play ground. Since I have been with Miss Urban the marks on the report card have improved and I was promoted to the 8 grade.

 p21  During the summer I would go up to see the Sisters and watch the girls working in the garden, once in a while since I knew I was early getting there I would change and give them a helping hand as I loved working with flowers, and digging in the soil.⁠a I used to spent a good number of hours working side by side with the Superior, she in return used to tell me different happenings of her life and how I loved her. Since I knew how to look after lawns and trimm the bushes I did it for Miss Urban she was very much surprise to see how pretty the front lawn was kept and trimmed, and the back yard had to be lawn-mowed also. I had great joy to see that Gods plants were watered and attended to. One remarkable thing struck me while living there. The next door neighbor had a son and daughter who were attending High school. On Monday the mother would do the wash no doubt and would hang it out side. I was out that day when her side door opened and she came out to wipe her lines as she closed the door I noticed her feeling her way against the wall. As she approached the lines she felt her way. It really was remarkable to see and watch her hang up her laundry although in complete blindness. One day the garage door blew opened and she didnt realize her sheets were there and would become dirty, so I walked over and closed it. She must have become frightened as she turned fast and said is it the dog (Jeff)? I explained what had happened, she was so very grateful. I admired her spirit and many times wondered what had caused her blindness.

First Fridays all the school children had to receive Communion in a body. This was a day that made me cry more than once. I would get up as usual and serve breakfast to Miss Urban and scant off to church running to get there in time. Since I have been in the choir we all were up there. Right after the Consecration I would get weak and naturally was afraid to walk out myself due to the fact that perhaps I would fall down the stairs, So right before Communion I would pass out. The bell toller would remain in the choir so he had to take me out. It happened for about seven months and the Nun was just about fed up with the routine, she told me not to come up to the choir any more to sing if I cant stand the heat for an half hour. I cried on my way home asking why cant I receive communion, doesnt God want me to receive Him, if He permits this always to happen, I couldnt understand it.

 p22  During the eight grade when I went up to see the children and the sisters the ordinary question was asked many times what are you going to do when you graduate this June? I have been thinking about this myself for a long time and deep inside would have loved to go to Texas and live there. But I dont have money and I'm an orphan so what can I do about being a Cow Girl. . . . I kept this in my little mind. Praying usually solves problems. I owned a "Father Stedman Missal"⁠b and in the back of the prayer book was a novena for Vocations in life. I began this in March thinking by June I should know what Im going to do. When I came to the specific part of naming my vocation in life I never actually said I wanted to be a cow girl but "Dear Blessed Mother you know what I should do so make it turn out for the best" But still I had to urge to get to Texas.

One Saturday afternoon I thought it would be nice to visit the sister so off I went; as I approached the grounds the Superior was sitting on one of the lawn benches waiting for the Nuns Confessor to arrive. I greeted her by kissing her hand as we had been trained, and she invited me to sit down. I was surprised at the invitation. She took my hand in hers and said what am I going to do when I finish school. Naturally I was shocked at the question and didnt have an answer immediately for her. She stated Im old enough to know what I should want to do and it is up to her to know since she is responsible for my future. One thing did pass my mind "my novena" and to Texas, should I tell Superior I want to go there, what will happen? Naturally she knew what type of character I have had in me, and what a tom boy at that, I loved taking care of pigs and the chickens, including the garden digging and weeding the garden, washing windows and even killing chickens, and rats when necessary. . . . Eating raw eggs while cleaning the chicken coop and making sure that a dozen or two were turned in and the rest were cleaned up by drinking them while still warm . . . How could I ask to be a Nun? But from the blue sky I looked at her as a sincere child would turn to her mother and tell the truth. So I said "Can I become a Nun"? I think it was just a step undecided since I was afraid to tell her I would like to go to Texas I doubt she would send me any way there. We sat and I listened to what hardships come up and it is a very nice life to lead.

 p23  Perhaps I loved this Superior so much and just wanted to make her happy to think I was going to be like her. . . . On came the Confessor and off I was to see the children. As I walked to their quaters I went towards the chapel as if to say I better pray and see if that is the right thing that I want to do. When I reached home after supper Miss Urban and I sat on the front porch and I told her what had taken place that afternoon. Well the worse was coming my way. She was furious. She said that it wasnt right to become a Nun when I was so young and dont realize what life is. She promised if I remained where she would put me through High School, and then through Business School, and later perhaps I would be able to handle a position in her printing press. It sounded nice but I told the Superior that I wanted to become a nun. What was I going to do with myself. That evening she called to the Superior and told her that some one no doubt is talking me into this set up, and put the blame on the nun that had charge of the children. Miss Urban demanded the nun to the phone and battled it out with her. "How can you make Agnes become a another when she is just getting out of the eight grade. I got myself into some nice boiling oil today. The atmosphere changed in the house. She didnt talk much to me and I went about disturbed also. It was about the month of March when my brother and his wife came to visit me, they didnt say much but later I found out that Miss Urban was a T. B. patient and had been going in for check ups from time to time. The last week in April came and I decided that it would be much better to go back to the orphanage since that will be my home. So Saturday I cleaned the whole house for Miss Urban very thoroughly and told her I would leave Monday after school. She didnt say anything, but the expression was a stern one. Monday came I returned at noon to prepare dinner (lunch) Miss Urban wasnt in. I ate and went back to school. After school one of the other girls came along to help me bring my things back to the orphanage. On the way there Julia and I talked and laughed. She thought it was a long walk but I was used to it after two and a half years. When we came on the porch, my eyes practically popped out. What do you think was laying on the porch floor? Nothing more than my clothes, coats, shoes and books. . . . . We put on a few blouses and sweaters, each of us looked like blown up youngsters ready for holloween.

 p24  We carried the things back a mile and a half stopping a million times to fix up the things. I realized that Miss Urban liked me and I was kind to her, every Saturday as a rule or when she asked me to I would wash her hair and comb it as she would have to have it done in a beauty parlor and I certainly did enjoy fixing it. I tried to make her evenings happy and pleasant by telling her what happened at the orphanage what was funny and serious not daring ever to mention the beating we girls received. Many times I thought what would the Goverment do about that institution if it was reported. That wasnt the only incident. The girls would be beaten so hard with shoes over their arms and heads, and with sticks of the mops that some would crawl under the beds for protection. or they would have their hands beaten against the window cills for not doing their dusting obligations. Some of the things that happened in that place were worse than in a prison.⁠c I remember the Nun that had charge of us loved to listen to the love stories on the radio and if we dared to make noise while washing those tin dishes you heard about it, and it was put on so quiet, that the other sisters couldnt hear it as it was just a wall separation from where they have been. While in the orphanage we were forbidden completely to play house, or to have dolls to play with, the nuns thought it was terrible, they just were very green, green, green. For hours we were forced to sit up nights to memorize poems and words to songs for guest that came to leave an offering. One evening we all had a part to study and it was being rehearsed. We went throught it about six times and standing at that. One of the girls had a cut wrist at the time she tried to lean against a window edge, she was told to stand up straight, so she did for some time. Before we knew it she sank to the floor fainting. She came to and had to stand in place again. When the nuns held their spiritual reading the children were closed up like clams, we couldnt say boo. . . . . . or some one of the sisters would rap on the window to keep quiet. Many times one of the High School girls would round us up and sit us on the stairs and she would sit on a chair that was used for the sewing machine and keep us quiet by telling and making up a story as she went along about other orphan children and some of them had us in tears, That kept her busy to keep talking for 20 minutes. If any one wanted to read a story for a book report you had to close yourself in the  p25 bathroom, or sit under the stairs in the dark no to be caught, I can say we didnt see a girls book or even about Heide, or Uncle Toms cabin thats wasnt necessary for us to know to become good.

Concerning the little tots that remained home for the day they had to be feed and put to bed and to get out we would hold our fingers over their eyes to make the close them. One day two of the cribs were close together, one little rascal was up and made enough noise till the other woke up no doubt, the both stood up in bed and began to fight. One bit the other one on the nose that it bled with all the shouting the nun that was down stairs ran to the rescue but too late they had their act performed. Another insident. Coming home from school we had to undress and put on working dresses. Then to get the little ones up, Wash them dress them and take them down stairs and feed them. While dressing one of the tots as she was put to sit on the wide window cill, the shoe was put on and didnt go in, So the big girl straightened out the leg and gave another push but what happened the three year old went straight throught a window, not a scratch, boy wasnt she happy nothing happened to that child. from that time on, we sat the child on our lap to put their shoes on. . .

d Daily we had to attend Mass and receive communion, while others stayed home usually it was all divided up amongst the girls. If there were sixteen going to grammer school on every other day we had eight stay home that morning. Confession was weekly, before leaving he had to go to the Nun in charge and kiss her in the hand and say Im sorry, for we did work her up more than once. We marched to church and back. You can not talk in line and walk out of it, it just had to be straight. One day I tried to see what was going to happen. The ones that were in the eight grade gave the report. I walked crooked for about a block, before I knew it the girl from the back came up to me grabbed me by the arm and squeezed it as hard as she could and said you have to keep in line remember. By that time I felt as if I had an electric shock the next day the arm was bruised from the nails that went into the flesh, you dare not tell sister, you would get more than that. Some times we were late in the afternoons, due that the little ones didnt want to eat and you had to make sure it was packed into them no matter how you got it in. So it all took time and nothing mattered.

 p26  The Patrol boys have gone in for the bell rang and the police man would stay a few more minutes to get our gang across safely, since we had to cross the highway. One day I believe it was really late so he was faithful and waited till will got there At the time the light changed red so we waited. he turned to us and asked "whats the matter did the sisters give you fish to eat and you had to take the bones out" that was a Tuesday. We laughed and said no we had to put the babies to bed. . . . When we walked into the class room it usually was the back door, since we slipped into the cloak room very quietly and then to our seats. Sister never said or asked why were we late I guess they knew the army marching in line took time to reach their destination. I recall in the fifth grade I remained to help clean up while the others went to church. The sister that remained home also had to fix the childrens breakfast and hand it out on time when the others returned from church. She didnt go through the trouble of smearing up 50 slices of bread for the orphans so she handed a five pound can jelly container out the door and a can opener to do it ourselves. I took the opener and tried to tackle the job, as the can been half way opened the opener slipped and the lid was elevated enough to cut my arm I yelled for help and the blood was stopped. I went to school with a big bandage on and the blood saturating through. We stood up for religion and I was in front near Sister, I pocked her on the arm and out I went fainting. The nurse came in and carried me to the nurses room there I was laid down on the cot and went off to sleep for the morning. At noon they woke me up. I went home ate and came back to school as if nothing ever happened. Since we all had school bags and rag ones at that my pen point was at the bottom, swigging the case back and forward against my leg the point punctured the skin, it hurted a little. In a week I couldnt walk I was afraid to say anything. Finally I was taken to the Doctor and he scrapped the bone and with a tiny little spoon dug in and cleaned out the puss, Till today I bear the mark from that dear old pen point.

 p27  Returning back to the day when I have come back to the orphanage since that was what I have asked for myself, but still wanted to go to Texas I was going to graduate in two weeks. I asked for the money for the gown and the diploma and the pin. It was given to me. Graduation day came, pictures in the morning taken out side of the building and then another on the side of the school. I was pretty excited and upset. I knew none of the family was going to be there since it was a Friday evening. On the way home I have come with two other girls from the seventh grade. They waited for me since we had to report back to the class room as sister had a little holy thing for each pupil as a remembrance. Well all was over with as far as grammer school was concerned. As we approached the orphanage we were walking slowly and conversation was about how unfair the awards have been given. The boy who should have gotten the pin for Arithmetic didnt get anything and the girl who said she was going to be a nun received it. I said that the nuns were rotten and stinky for being so unfair. The windows were opened as we passed the childrens quaters and the nun in charge heard me say it. I just walked in and what. "What do you mean saying such things about nuns they are stinky or unfair" you should know better they are nuns consecrated to God" I just broke out into wails, other children have gone home for parties, and I have been envited to attend one but didnt get the permission and this is my graduation evening. In a little while Superior walked out with a tray with cookies and soda on it and a glass. She looked twice before she came over. Well I didnt have anything to say it was all explained to her. I didnt touch a blessed thing from that tray. It all went back, since I have gone upstairs to undress and get to bed since all the others were there by 9:30. I cried myself to sleep that night. Then I began to resent that nun in charge, if I could avoid her I would but not for long. So the month was nearing its end and the Superior came out again to make up my mind to tell her what am I going to do. I turned once again to her and asked can I become a Sister. . . When she left telling me Ill have another month to think it over she left. I walked straight into the chapel and began to cry, why am I asking to become a nun I hated the one that had charge of us and I would have to live with her, and is that my answer to the novena???

---

Thayer's Notes:

a My neighbor Agnes retained her love of gardening thru her entire life, within the very limited scope afforded us on our street in Chicago. In the small backyard squeezed between her garage and her house, she grew vegetables, mostly parsley and tomatoes, until her late eighties; when she was about 85, I watched her saw down an intrusive tree, its trunk about two inches in diameter. Her neat fenced-in front garden she tended until well into her nineties: flowers, ground cover, and an attractive hops-covered trellis over a statue of the Virgin Mary by the walk to the front door.

b Father Joseph F. Stedman (1898‑1946) published a number of devotional books, the most popular of which by far was his organized and annotated version of the Missal — "My Sunday Missal", many editions over the years — in which he encouraged lay participation: among other things, he provided a numbering system to make the sequence of prayers and responses easier to follow, explained the theme of each Sunday's Mass, and suggested that the reader speak out loud parts of the Mass reserved for the altar boys.

c See also the ugly account on p17.

d Here, the writer has written in by hand a very clear "Pg 16", in the same red ballpoint ink and handwriting as many other minor corrections she made. I suspect she is referring to another account she may have written, but I haven't yet found it among her papers. (I've found two other partial autobiographical items with a numbered page 16, but neither is relevant to this passage.)

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