I believe I was the only boy at the school who never went away on holidays and vacations to visit parents or relatives. The Sister Superior, probably realizing that my life was a bit too drab, often gave me the privilege of going to the village for mail and papers. This was a rare treat, and much sought by all the boys. It meant a long walk, a stroll down the village street, a chance to see people, maybe to buy a fat sandwich, a bag of peanuts, or a bottle of pop⁠—no small things in a boy’s life. It also meant authority and responsibility, good things for a boy. I looked forward to these journeys. I always had a little small silver, for spending, from my father.

The time passed quickly and pleasantly enough. I learned many prayers, practiced for singing in the church choir, and became an altar boy, serving the priest at mass. I liked learning the prayers and the Latin responses to the priest, but did not make much headway with my other studies.