Sunday, May 29, 2011
Edith (Young) Vereschagin taught at Mossy Vale School the second year it was open (1944-45), and she returned the next year. Edith was an enthusiastic, accomplished writer and artist; assets which her students must have found both inspiring and motivating. She was my Uncle Jack Morris's teacher. Years after Mossy Vale, Edith told with a smile, of a "situation" that arose during her tenure. My uncle, who had misbehaved somewhat inappropriately, was dismissed early one day by Edith, with a note for my grandmother, explaining the misdemeanor. Jack didn't come back to school the following day but when he returned the next, he relayed that his mom intended to pay a visit to the school that noon to see Miss Young. Apparently, she and all of the students were not to do anything, or go anywhere, until she arrived. My Romanian-born grandmother, a rotund woman with completely broken english, and generally spoken with extra volume to compensate, could appear fairly intimidating, more so to those who crossed her. Edith, feared the worst. Anticipating the wrath of an overly protective parent, her hour of dread finally arrived. But what my grandmother brought to school that lunch hour, was a healthy dose of support and appreciation in the form of enough home-cooked food to feed an army.
Photo courtesy: A. Byers