Joan Smith The First Day by E. S. Morgan Eruera was afraid. True, he was a big boy. Also school was fun, the Pakeha nurse and his big brother Wiki had said so, but Eruera was still afraid. He stood just inside the school gate, rubbing his bare toes on the concrete path. His new navy blue shirt scratched his neck, and his legs felt lost in his big new pants. Wiki was still comfortingly close, but showing signs of impatience. ‘Come Eru,’ he said. ‘Are you growing roots in this place? The teacher must drive his car up here, and then what will happen if you don't move?’ ‘Here comes Miss James,’ called a big girl. ‘This is Wiki's little brother, and he won't come in.’ That wasn't true. Eruera would come in, but his feet wouldn't. Perhaps they were growing roots. The Pakeha teacher was kind al right. The nurse had told him that. Her hand felt kind as she led him into the big bright room, full of strange colours and strange things, but, Oh! good! familiar playmates from the pa. The Pakeha nurse who weighted their baby had told Eruera other things. ‘You must take a clean hankie and clean finger-nails to school every day, Eru, then Miss James will be pleased with you.’ Eruera felt safe and happy about his hands and his hankie. He flourished them on top of the little bright brown table where the teacher had told him to sit, hoping desperately that they would be noticed. As the morning went by, the queer tight feeling left Eruera. Songs were sung. Some of them strange Pakeha songs that did not help the tightness, but some were the Maori songs his mother had sung to him all his life. Songs that had comforted him through the long illness which had made one leg short and thin. Soon Eruera began to feel that school was after all a happy place like home, and like his home too, there were places and things in Miss James' room that were just for Eruera himself. There was a piece of black wall where no-one but the could make exciting marks with a white stick. There was a little mat on the floor for story and song time, and of course, his table and chair. There were lots of bottles of milk in a funny wire box, and one of them was for Eruera. At breakfast that morning, Eruera's mother had spoken to Wiki. ‘Watch for him at playtime and after school, son, and why don't you tell him what will happen at school? He's a little fellow, and it's all new.’ So Wiki had told Eruera about the long red book. ‘It's called a roll, Eru, and when the teacher sings out your name you say “Yes, Miss James”, because she might get cross if you don't listen and yell back quick.’ This advice had been received with open mouth Continued on page 54