Lovey
This deeply moving memoir tells the story of Hannah: a child who has been beaten and abused; a girl full of loneliness and rage; a student no one but learning disabilities teacher Mary MacCracken could reach.Mary had reservations about eight-year-old Hannah joining her class. The three emotionally disturbed boys she was currently looking after had been making steady progress, and Hannah, who had a reputation for being a withdrawn and incredibly troubled child, would only be a disruptive influence.For the first fortnight Hannah retired to a cupboard and refused to come out. Howling almost non-stop she was displaying the worst symptoms that Mary had ever seen.How could Mary help a child who had been shut up in closets and treated like an animal? What could she say to a child who had been locked out of her own home, and beaten by both her brother and her father? How could she reach this lost girl?This is the remarkable story of Hannah and Mary’s journey together. Deep within Hannah, Mary recognises an amazing strength. And with love, skill and patience, she gradually starts to make a difference. It’s a long road to recovery, but Mary never gives up.As this moving true story unfolds, we feel Mary’s joy, we share her hope and, in time, her faith that Hannah will be okay.
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This book recounts the essence of my experience and in that sense is a true story. However, it is not intended as a literal account and it is not to be taken as a portrayal of any living person. All names of individuals, places or institutions are fictitious.
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First published in Great Britain by Andre Deutsch Ltd, 1977
This updated edition published by HarperElement 2014
Copyright © 1976, 2014 by Mary Burnham MacCracken
Mary MacCracken asserts the moral right to
be identified as the author of this work
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2014
Cover photographs © Diane Kerpan/arcangel-images.com
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Source ISBN: 9780007555147
Ebook Edition © March 2014 ISBN: 9780007555154
Version 2016-10-24
Contents
‘Wait just a minute, Mary. I want to talk to you.’ The Director covered the phone and nodded towards the coffeepot. ‘Pour yourself a cup. I’ll be right with you.’
I hesitated, juggling the armload of books and old magazines I’d brought in. I didn’t want to stop now. This was the first day of school and the children would be arriving in a few minutes. I wanted to get down to my room, put away these last things, and make sure everything was ready.
‘Well, now, everything set?’ the Director said as she hung up.
‘I think so, except for these books and maybe a few travel posters that I’ll tack up until the kids get some paintings done.’ Our children were even more sensitive than most to the climate of their surroundings. I wanted no rush, no hurry, no helter-skelter when they first arrived. The Director understood this as well as I did. Why was she keeping me here, diddling around and chatting?
‘Uh, Mary, I wanted to tell you … there’s been a change in your class.’
‘A change? What do you mean? What’s wrong? Has something happened to one of my children?’
‘No, no. Nothing like that. It’s just that I’ve rearranged things a little.’
I was instantly on guard. Euphemisms from the Director were always a danger sign. ‘Rearranged things?’
‘Yes. Last night when I went over the class lists I decided to put Hannah Rosnic in with you and move Carolyn –’
‘Hannah Rosnic!’ I interrupted. ‘How can that work? Brian and Rufus are almost ready for regular school – Brian’s twelve; this is his last year – and even Jamie is able to sit long enough to do some reading. Carolyn will fit in beautifully, I know she will. We took her on trips with us last year. I know she’s withdrawn, and her fantasies –’
‘I’ve put Carolyn in Ellen’s class,’ the Director interrupted in her turn. ‘I realised last night that it was asking too much of Ellen to take on Hannah. Ellen’s too new. She’s right for her other three and she’ll be good with Carolyn. But Hannah will be better off with you.’
‘Listen,’ I said, ‘what about the boys? And I don’t even know Hannah – except what I heard from down the hall last year. I don’t have any rapport with her. How am I going to get anything going between her and the boys? What makes you think they’ll accept her at all?’
The Director sipped her coffee and lit a cigarette, fanning the smoke away from her eyes. She looked exactly as she always had, cheerful, dynamic, the strong sinewy cords in her neck softened by her feathery white hair. ‘I’ve thought about it. The boys will be good for her, give her a nice balance.’ She paused and smiled at me. ‘And Hannah’ll stir them up a little – give your room a little more excitement.’
‘Excitement? What do we need with excitement? We’ve all come a long way, but it’s possible that we could lose everything we’ve gained so far with Hannah in there.’
‘Anything’s possible,’ the Director said coolly. The phone rang. She picked up my untouched coffee and her half-empty cup and headed back to her desk, nodding to me and dismissing me at the same time. ‘Well, that’s set, then. Fine, I’ll send Hannah down when she arrives.’
