My First Destination

It was a hot summer’s day in Sydney in early February of 1952. Great excitement at the Novitiate in Mount Street, North Sydney, as three of our Profession group said our farewells to the rest of the group and joined the Sisters at the Mother House who were journeying back to their destinations in the Bombala Parish which bordered on Victoria. We were a party of nine in all including a postulant.

Our journey commenced at Sydney’s Central Railway Station where we filled a compartment on the train. I should explain that the nine of us made up three communities all in the same parish – Nimmitabel would be the first community to leave the train and then Bombala and Delegate communities would disembark at Bombala – the end of the rail line. The Sisters going on to Delegate would travel by car with the priest.

All was going well until we arrived in Queanbeyan about 2.00 pm where we were required to leave the train as bush fires were raging further on and the culverts were destroyed under the line. After some half hour’s wait we were transferred to two buses which would take us through to Cooma. I was apprehensive, we all were, but coming from NZ I was not used to bush fires and didn’t know what to expect. I soon found out! We were just outside Queanbeyan and reaching the brow of a hill – and then I realized what danger we were in. Flames about 40 feet high were racing towards us up the hill from the other side! I thought my last day had come. But, no! Those two bus drivers turned their vehicles in record time and raced back the way we had come. The wind changed shortly afterwards and Queanbeyan was spared.

We were all put on standby until later in the day and the Good Samaritan Sisters gave us shelter until later that day when it was deemed safe for the buses to proceed to Cooma where we again boarded a train.

Instead of arriving at Bombala in the late afternoon it was about 5.00 am when finally we arrived at the Convent to be greeted by the Parish Priest and a very excited dog who barked around us in great rejoicing. His friends had come home.

For a kiwi it was the beginning of a great year when I began teaching a class of children who referred to me as a “New Australian”, much to my amusement. I was also introduced to snow falling – another first for me – although it did not really settle; flooding in the town and lack of power gave us three days in the dark but also time off school. I felt well and truly initiated.

Peggy Thompson

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