The One-Room Schoolhouse
(Dauphin, Manitoba,Canada)

My family and I arrived in Winnipeg, Manitoba sometime in June of 1951. I was 10 years old, and neither spoke nor understood much English, yet was starting school that September.

My parents were both in the botany department at the University of Manitoba and both my sister and I tagged along during the day. My parents became friend with a Swedish-Canadian student who happened to teach (and was the principal as well) at a small one-room schoolhouse outside of Dauphin, Manitoba, about 200 miles NW of Winnipeg. Mrs. Barton offered to take me home with her after the summer semester was over, for a few weeks, so I could be around English speakers yet still have someone who’d understand me if I got too frustrated.

The day of travel by train dawned, and I was packed and ready to go when Mrs. Barton met us at the railway station that morning. Late that same afternoon we arrived at the small railroad station in Dauphin, and were met by her older daughter, Joy who would drive us to their small farm next to the schoolhouse.

The school, a white building complete with small cupola for the bell, consisted of one large room with several rows of desks, a large potbelly stove to warm the room, and a hallway for outdoor clothes and shoes. The bathrooms were outside, an outhouse, no running water. There was a pump at the sink in the main school room. The youngest students sat in the front, the oldest ones in the back of the room. Maps and charts lined the walls between windows, and at the front of it all was a large blackboard.

Back to the arrival. I was to share a room with the youngest daughter whose name I can’t remember right now. I was unpacking when this furry creature came up behind me. I screamed, and practically flew onto the top bunk, quite sure I was about to be devoured by said creature. Mrs. Barton and kids talked me down, calmed me down and then introduced me to the dog, a sweet, gentle collie, a "Lassie dog". In Iceland, dogs were considered herding animals and were not allowed in the city, even on leash back when I was a kid. I was petrified of dogs as a result. Once I realized she wouldn't up and eat me alive, Lady and I became fast friends.

Another "member of the family" was the cow, and then a few days later, her calf. I fell in love with the calf, learned to milk the cow, then bring the milk into the cool creamery where it was separated into cream and milk.

The week before the school was to open, the family went berry picking close by – cranberries (shrub variety) and choke cherries (inedible except in jellies – they really DO choke you as tart as they are). Mrs. Barton and her oldest daughter, Joy, made the jelly. The younger ones and I enjoyed it on fresh baked bread.

School started with little fanfare. There was only one school bus for those furthest away. The rest walked, rode bikes or came on horseback from neighboring farms, often several miles away. Parents drove the youngest. In the winter, more would come by car or bus because of the very low temperatures – often well below 0º Fahrenheit (about -20º C).

Then came the very, very rainy day, just a few days before I was to leave. The roads turned into a quagmire, and the black soil clung to the feet and shoes of those who walked. The horseback riders … well, some of them walked too because the clingy mud was too heavy for the horses to handle easily. Others would double up with a younger child, if the ride wasn’t too long.

Some of the kids who walked from nearby farms came barefoot, carrying their shoes which would simply have been sucked off by the mud (pure black prairie loam). A garden hose was rolled out to where the kids could clean their feet and put their shoes on before entering the schoolroom.

I remember how the damp clothes smelled that day. Not dirty, just musty and wet. Instead of hanging the wet coats in the hallway, they were laid out to dry in front near the stove. Recess was indoors on the two rainy days I was there. The older kids read to the younger ones. Or played board games. Or played tic tac toe on the blackboard. I found the school's set of "The Book of Knowledge."

On my last day with the Barton’s I was presented with a small scroll saying I had passed my "Learning English With Flying Colors" and was now ready to start school in the city, having experienced a REAL school. Hmmmmm.
The day I was to go back home to Winnipeg, Mrs. Barton drove me into Dauphin and put me on the train, telling the conductor that I needed help with changing trains in Brandon, so I would get on the right train to Winnipeg (instead of heading for Vancouver).