My parents were married in 1947 and moved into our home in Ranelagh, where my brother was born the next year. I followed in another year, and my sister arrived three years later. Dad was a barman in the city and as the house was in need of repairs my mother took in lodgers to bring in extra funds. One of these lodgers was a lady who stayed with our family for 10 years. She had a difficult name for us to pronounce so we just called her “Miss”. To say my brother was the apple of her eye is an understatement. In 1955 my brother made his First Holy Communion in his grey flannel suit bought in Our Boys shop, in Wicklow Street, at enormous expense to the family.
Even in those days this was a big event. Also, as now, people give First Holy Communion money. My brother had his communion money in his pocket and he went off down the road. Once out of sight, he went to the local shop and bought 12 aniseed balls (dark red sweets which turned white when sucked). He popped the lot into his mouth to ensure he wouldn’t have to share these with his sisters.
Being summer, mum was in the front garden watching my sister and me. She saw my brother coming up the road with the red saliva from the sweets dripping down the front of his new communion suit. She pounced on him, shaking him by the shoulder and giving him a good old telling off, while the red-coloured saliva dribbling from his mouth appeared like blood and the little sweets like broken teeth.
“Miss” suddenly arrived on the scene. She saw my brother with what looked like a mouth full of broken teeth and tried to comfort him and at the same time rebuked my mother for being so cross with the child whose teeth were knocked out and was bleeding profusely, but mother knew better.
The photograph shows the family in our back garden before the incident.
