How we remember

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Hilaire Belloc is especially known for his "Cautionary tales for children". He was born in 1870 to a French father and British mother and his biography is quite interesting to read, even though I secretly harbour rather negative feelings for him. The reason being that I suffered considerably in childhood because of one of his rather humorous, but truly brutal cautionary poems, called, "Matilda, little liar."

One of my primary school teachers thought it fit to include this poem in our English literature curriculum and the outcome was that, children being what they are, I not only became, Waltzing Matilda, but also, Little Liar. To this day, I cannot fathom what this person was thinking when she chose that poem as I was the type of learner that every teacher wish they had classrooms full of: obedient, quiet, intelligent and extremely hardworking. I would like to add honest to this list, but that might be protesting too much.

Then, one day, not too long ago, I happened upon a little poem by Belloc which made me forgive him for using my name to warn against the horrid sin of telling lies. I only wish he'd chosen me for this one rather.

The Elm

This is the place where Dorothea smiled.
I did not know the reason, nor did she.
But there she stood, and turned, and smiled at me:
A sudden glory had bewitched the child.
The corn at harvest, and a single tree.
This is the place where Dorothea smiled.

Matilda