Hello my name is Maria and this is my story

I have set up this web site to tell my story of life growing up at Nazareth House Convents from the age of 2-15 where I suffered physical,mental, verbal and emotional abuse at the hands of Catholic Nuns of the order called The Poor Sisters Of Nazareth. I will start by telling the background of how I came to be at Nazareth House in Cardonald Glasgow from the age of 2. My Mum and Dad split up the reason why I do not know but we were staying with my Dad and because of working a three shift system he could not be there to look after myself and my elder sister who is four years older than I am. I have been told that social services became involved and that we were put in to care at Nazareth House Cardonald Glasgow I was 2 and my sister was 6. I am told because of neglect by the woman my Dad paid to look after us while he was at work.

My sister remembers when we arrived at Nazareth House that my Dad rang the bell and a maid answered this big huge door and ushered us in to a big hall we were told to wait there while the maid went to fetch the nuns to tell them we had arrived. My sister recalls two nuns arriving and she was just screaming bearing in mind she had never seen a nun before and she was only six and very very frightened also one of the nuns took me away and we had never been parted from when I was born she did not know where they were taking me to and was frightened and confused. My sister recalls she was like a little mum to me since my mum left and she was very close to me. I was taken to the nursery and she was taken to the older childrens part of the convent we were not to see each other again until I was five years old.
When I came out of the nursery I was five years old and I joined the older children. I cannot recall my time spent in the nursery as a bad experience so I assume that I was not badly treated otherwise I am sure I would have remembered. I remember I had a problem with wetting the bed I was often giving a beating with whatever stick the nun had at the time and the punishment was not just the beating but I was often made to stand outside the nuns cell(their bedroom) at night with the soiled sheet round me until I was told by a nun I could go to bed.
I recall another punishment for wetting the bed was after being beaten the nuns made me have a cold bath and I mean cold with added DDT a sort of disinfectant which I remember turned the water Pink I believe it is a banned product now and I remember it stung my eyes when my hair was washed. I recall another punishment was force feeding and believe me the food was disgusting but we were forced to eat it. I remember one incident that stand out in my mind was we were served liver for dinner and I did not like it the nuns forced me to eat it and I was sick. One of the nuns came down the dining room and dragged me out in front of every one and I felt humiliated and I was hit and made to wipe up my own sick and as I was wiping it I just kept being even more sick and no one was allowed to help me it was disgusting. When I came down for breakfast the next day the liver I had not finished was in my place and I had to eat it for breakfast even today I do not buy liver and I have never eaten liver since I came out of care. I recall most of the food was not cooked properly but we were made to eat it. I am sure it was unfit for humans but this is what it was like. We were made to stand out in front of every one and I felt embarrassed, shame and humiliation it was what the nuns did on a regular bases.

I remember dinner time as being very traumatic for most of us because we knew if we did not like the dinner that was served we would be in trouble if we did not eat it so most of us were filled with dread at meal times. A lot of us used to try and get a seat either next to radiator or near one. The radiators were old fashioned ones huge and I used to stuff dinner down the back of them trying desperately not to get caught otherwise I would have been given a good beating another ploy of mine was if I was not near a radiator I would stuff dinner up my sleeves so that I had a clean plate and would dispose of the dinner down the toilet providing I did not get caught otherwise I was in trouble.
In these days the nuns were looked on as a pillar of society and were respected people. I am often asked now why I did not tell anyone about what was happening to me all I can say is I was a child and the one or two children that were brave and courageous enough to tell some one about what was happening to them the end result was the nuns were told and these children received a good beating so there was no point in telling any one and also I for one did not know who I could trust I was beaten enough without adding to my sorrows. I suppose I was a coward but that was the level of fear instilled into all of us if we dared to tell any one. I remember another thing the nuns made us do in the summer was drink milk but this was not fresh milk it was milk that had gone sour and then lumpy it was awful. I recall another activity was we were made to line up in the bathrooms and we had to examine each others knickers and if they were stained bearing in mind some of us had started our periods again we were dragged out in front of every one and humiliated it was an awful feeling of shame. I recall I started my periods at a young age and because these things were never discussed I thought I was dying I was so naive I did not know anything about periods but luckily my older sister came and I told her and she explained to me what I had to do. The other humiliating factor when I was having a period was I had to knock on the nuns cell door(their bedroom) and ask for sanitary towels the nuns would not say anything even when it was my first time and they handed me a packet of towels wrapped in Brown plain paper and a sanitary belt. The sanitary belt was hilarious to me as I did not have a clue what I was supposed to do with it but again my big sister came to the rescue. The sanitary belt looked like something alien to me.