Fearless Females 2013: Day 21: Tender Moments in Reading

Describe a tender moment one of your female ancestors shared with you or another family member.

When my mother, Audrey Ball HAYWOOD, passed away suddenly in 1995, one of my clearest memories is one day going to the local supermarket to buy some bread, milk, whatever - and the girl at the checkout saying, "I remember your Mum; she taught me to read."  (My mother used to work as a teaching assistant at St John's Primary School in Glastonbury, Somerset).  To me, that is one of the proudest moments of my life.

I remember her teaching me to read, too.  I still have a recording, converted from a reel-to-reel tape (showing my age here!) of a very small me, aged 4, reading Beatrix Potter's "Peter Rabbit" in a very posh little voice.  And yet, you can hear in the background, when I stumbled on some of the larger (and therefore harder) words, my mother's voice gently prompting me with the correct pronunciation.

One of the most tender moments we shared.

Audrey Ball HAYWOOD, 1990s

Once again, in honour of National Women’s History Month, Lisa Alzo of The Accidental Genealogist blog presents Fearless Females: 31 Blogging Prompts to Celebrate Women’s History Month.  I know this is really US-centric - but that's not going to stop me honouring my own Fearless Females...

Fearless Females: Audrey Ball HAYWOOD outside the home

I am participating in the Fearless Females theme to honour National Women's History month.

Audrey Ball HAYWOOD (1932-1995), my mother, worked outside the home as a teacher's assistant in St John's Infant School, Glastonbury, Somerset.  She worked with the four-year-olds who were coming to school for the first time, and often had amusing stories to tell about what they said and did.

The most recent thing, which impressed me the most, was after she had died.  I was staying with my father in Glastonbury, to look after him and arrange the funeral.  I popped down to the local supermarket to buy basics like bread and milk, and the checkout girl commented on the passing of my mother (by then it had been in the local paper).  I'll never forget what she said:  

"She taught me to read."

I wonder how many other children around the area could say that - and I wonder how many women have that distinction?  My mother taught me to read as well, and in fact we still have a tape of me reading Peter Rabbit (very fast indeed, with prompts from my mother).  She it was who encouraged me to read anything and everything, which meant that I owned some 400 books by the time I was 14, and had read even more. She opened a whole new world to me, and I am forever grateful.