One of those accounts was about her own mother, Mary Rose Redmond Muroski. I have little recollection of this imposing woman. One of eleven children raised on a farm in the small town of Johnsonburg, Pennsylvania, my memories are only of a frail woman no longer able to speak due to cancer of the larynx-- on a death bed in the dining room of my parents home. She died when I was five years old.
Mary was only allowed to attend school until the 6th grade because her chores were essential to keeping the farm productive and her duties were prescribed at her birth just as those of her remaining siblings. Mom told the story countless times about how Grandma Muroski excelled in her classes at the small grade school on Dill Hill. She was a model student who loved learning. On the last day of class in that 6th grade year, Mary cried and cried. Her grades were excellent and she knew that she would not be returning to school the next year. The incessant crying and almost hysterical behavior concerned the teacher so she personally visited "Babci"--the Polish name of endearment given to my Great-Grandmother. Her concern for the child's well-being convinced the farmer's wife to allow Mary to attend another year of sixth grade, despite her good grades. Mary's tears of sadness quickly changed to tears of joy as she now had an additional year to learn.
This is perhaps one of my favorite stories from mom. It was one I heard as a child whenever I complained about school. What a wonderful line of strong women.
"Babci" (second from left) and Mary Rose (fourth from left) of the Redmonds.
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