Read Hold the Roses for Free Online Page B

usual clowning self. Most of the time, I would
forget to raise my hand to answer questions. I would just speak out loud.
She would smile, but always remind me I had to end my sentence with the
word "Sister." ("Yes, Sister." "No, Sister.") I had learned how to print in
Professional Children's School. These kids only knew the Palmer method
of writing. Not only did I have to learn how to write; I was the only one
who could print all of the homework assignments on the blackboard. This
was my first clue to the difference in the teaching methods between both
schools.
    My first day was awful. I didn't know if I was ahead or behind my
classmates. I was very quiet in catechism class that first day; mostly I listened. Then came our homework for that day. We had to learn the Divine
Praises. It was cinch for me to memorize. I couldn't wait to get to school
the next day to rattle them off. Sister Alice Rita was thrilled and told the
class, "See, that's how you do your homework." The kids now hated me for
the second day in a row.
    A couple of months after I began school, Sister Alice Rita realized
that my schooling at Professional Children's School was more advanced
than she had originally thought, and that it would be more appropriate for
me to be in the eighth grade. Of course, in time I got along with the other
kids. There are still two or three with whom I correspond to this day. Sister
Alice Rita and I remained dear friends until the day she died. Whenever I
was on the road, in later years, and I traveled near New Jersey, I'd go and
visit her.
    I guess you could say I was quite a promoter-the kids loved my
ideas. I became like the Pied Piper of Epiphany. I put on a play in the
church hall. I got all the kids who were interested to help with the playwriting, and whoever wanted to act got parts. I did the lighting, choreography and directing. Not bad for a twelve-year-old! My next project was
a bazaar. The church needed money-don't they always?

    Baby Rose Marie at the end of an era-about to
leave the "Baby" behind
    Well, dear readers, this was a bazaar to end all bazaars. We raised
$506, a tidy sum in those days. When I first got the idea to do this, I told
Father Banks to announce the event at every Mass. I guess I must have
sounded very authoritative, because he agreed.
    This bazaar didn't cost the church a single penny. I promoted everything. I went up to the attic in my house and took my mother's crystal and
sold it for ten cents each. You can just imagine my mother's reaction when
she found out. I told the kids to bring whatever they could from their
houses (with the approval of their parents, of course). I had a friend who
owned a candy store, and we got all the Coca-Cola we wanted. All of the mothers were assigned tasks. One made lemonade, one made popcorn,
and three or four made muffins and cookies. Mrs. Sheffield made several
of her famous cakes. We set up booths and made up games to play. The
prizes were plush toys. Sammy Ward gave me the money to buy these toys.
Herbie Steiner supplied the dolls. Even the makers of the Baby Rose Marie
dolls gave some of them to us for our event.

    We then participated in a Catholic Youth Organization (CYO) radio
competition, which I got my friend Norma Cuny to write. She didn't even
go to my school. Once again, I was the director. We used about fifteen kids
from my class as our actors. We did our show-a variety-type show with a
serious playlet at the end-on a local station and won the competition.
They have the trophy to this day in the church hall.
    I graduated from Epiphany. My diploma is still there. I never picked
it up. I decided to give up school again. I had no time for it. I was doing a
fifteen-minute program on NBC three nights a week with a big orchestra.
That too fell by the wayside after a few months. I was now at that awkward
stage. Twelve years old. In between. Too young to be a grown-up, too old
to be a child. We changed Baby Rose