Story from ‘library of the heart’ makes for new friend

Elaine Bouthillier
Posted 2/26/15

In 2013 I searched for something that would be of special interest to me, since I retired in 2011, and felt that I needed something to peak my interests and offer me something in return.

Upon …

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Story from ‘library of the heart’ makes for new friend

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In 2013 I searched for something that would be of special interest to me, since I retired in 2011, and felt that I needed something to peak my interests and offer me something in return.

Upon deciding to explore classes that the Warwick Public Library, located on Sandy Lane in Warwick, offered, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that a Journal Writing class was being offered at the library.

It sounded like the perfect opportunity for me to be able to use my writing skills, express some of my experiences, and meet new and interesting people. Yet, I had no idea what new and exciting things and people I would be introduced to. I’d like to share my little story with you, in hopes that you might get my message to anyone who may have the opportunity to read your wonderful newspapers.

When I first began attending the journaling classes, which are held every other Tuesday night at the library on Sandy Lane, from 6:30 to 8:00 p.m., I went into each class with an open mind and eagerness to finally put down in writing, some of my life’s experiences, thoughts, and feelings about such a variety of subjects. It soon became apparent to me that, there are so many subjects and happenings that I could write about, I’d never run out of topics. Thanks to our journal class leader, Barbara McKerracher (who also happens to be a retired nurse), my enthusiasm, to attend these wonderfully interesting classes, is tenacious.

One of my writings was about how, when I was 13 years old, I got my “working papers” and began working at The Providence Floating Hospital, which was located in the Buttonwoods Park area, in a wooded area, not far from the beach. It wasn’t really a hospital, but rather, a wonderful summer sanctuary where young children could spend two weeks at this fun, safe, peaceful home that was privately owned and operated by a very caring, generous older couple.

It was set up to perfectly house a certain amount of children, who would never, otherwise have such a fun experience if not for this special, free get-away. The children would each stay for two weeks, enjoying prepared daily breakfast, lunch and dinner. There was a very large fenced-in play ground, with swings, a big slide and sandbox. There was also an isolated fenced-in area that contained a pool for the children, which was very safe, with only a few inches of water.

The hospital was housed with wards of larges cribs, which had bars on them, to make sure no child ever fell out of bed. Their daily and bedtime apparel was all provided by the people who operated the hospital; i.e., cute little box-type shorts and shirts, made of cute, fun prints.

The children had their own dinning room, which contained numerous short vinyl tables and chairs, making it easy to clean them.

I was very fortunate to have worked there when I was only 13 because my mother, Mary Bouthillier, worked there every weekday, as the laundry lady during the summer months. Whenever the weather was good, she’d carefully hang all the clothes and linens on the many clothes lines; take them in when they were dry; and fold them and put them away.

When I was 11 years old, I began riding my bicycle to Buttonwoods, where the hospital was located. I’d ride down Long Street, and then take a right onto the long winding road, encompassed by a beautiful arrangement of trees on each side of the narrow road, that lead to the hospital. Once there, I’d help my mother with her laundry duties. Since my mother didn’t have her driver’s license at that time, my father would pick her up, and I’d take my memorable bicycle ride back home to Nausauket, where we lived.

As I reflect back on those days, I keep them in a special category in the Library of my Heart; where they are stored, for retrieval any time I wish to recall them.

Since the people who operated the hospital liked and respected my mother, they gave me a chance to work there during the summers, when I turned 13 years old. I got working papers from the School Department of Administration and moved into the dormitory that had been built for the young ladies (like me), who stayed there all summer, to feed, watch over, play with, and help shower these precious, underprivileged children. We even helped them brush their teeth at night and in the morning. It was an experience that, I wish there was such a place today, so more young ladies/girls could have such a wonderful experience. It was one of responsibility and care, which also offered unexpected fun with the children, and a sense of accomplishment.

The nurse, who was always on the premises, took us to church every Sunday, too, if we wanted to go, and that made us feel like one big caring family.

You may be wondering what my story has to do with the Sandy Lane Library’s Journal Class that I mentioned in the beginning of this letter.

Well…because I shared stories with the class about my life’s experiences, etc., I met a very special lady, Roberta, who is now a very special friend.

You see…after I read (aloud) my story about working at the Providence Floating Hospital, that special lady, who had always sat next to me during our journal classes, told me that she had also worked at the Providence Floating Hospital, and remembered my mother. I don’t really know if she and I worked there during the same summer months, since she is a few years older than I; however, just knowing that she worked there, and that she remembered my mother, gave me such a wonderful, nostalgic, sense of peace and fulfillment.

You never know that one day, someone you may have met many years ago, could appear in your life again, and fill your heart with a special joy. You may just discover that, the book you have chosen from the library is actually one that has yet to be written by yourself.

Had I not taken a chance to join the Journal Class at the Warwick Public Library, on Sandy Lane, I would probably never have had the chance to put in writing (and read), my story about the Providence Floating Hospital and to have met my wonderful new friend, Roberta.

So, I am asking you to please publish (at least part of) my story, in hopes of getting some people who don’t know how talented they could be in writing, or just what or who they may discover because of their interest in the library.

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