The Sin of Pride

Pride is one of the Seven Deadly Sins.

It was drummed into us in our formative years at primary school by Miss Twomey. 

Although my family was Church of England, I went to the small private junior school that my Mother had gone to decades before when it was run by a Miss Smith who was of that faith. By the time I was a pupil the school was run by a Roman Catholic family and teachings were on the basis of that Faith.

Miss Twomey was the principal teacher. Miss Twomey was a witch. A pretty evil witch at that when it came to her dealings with children.

From the inception religious instruction was an important part of the curriculum. I'm sure that by the age of 6, I could recite all my prayers and several verses from various Collects and Epistle by heart. 

At the tender age of 6 or 7 Miss Twomey was lecturing us on the Seven Deadly Sins and in particular the sin of Pride.

So imagine my confusion when I was told to have pride in my work.

In all innocence I asked how I could have pride in my work if that would be a sin.

You can imagine the scene, I'm sure.  73 or 74 years later I'm still standing trembling with fear in front of her as she delivered the dressing down. Unusually she didn't actually hit me.

From that moment on I hated school. Having passed the 11-Plus with flying colours I went to Quarry Bank - a smallish prestigious Grammar School much sought after by parents for their children. I was two classes behind John Lennon.

Much to my parents' distress I'm sure (they were wonderful parents and supported my decision regardless of their disappointment) I left on the first day that I was legally able to leave. 

Pride

A few days ago Scriptor Senex blogged in answer to the question "What is your greatest source of pride?" posed in C Beth’s Blog the One Minute Writer the previous day.  It is rare for my opinions to differ from SS's to an extent which might warrant a comment but on this occasion I'm not sure that I go along with his views 100%.

The headmistress of my (and SS's) Prep School was a Roman Catholic.  As such she ensured that, despite the fact that the school was, in theory, non-denominational (I was brought up in the Church of England) we had a good grounding in scripture by rote and, in particular, the Seven Deadly Sins (which I can, of course, still recite).  At the tender age of about 7 we would be told that 'Pride' was a sin and in the next lesson (or the next sentence sometimes I'm sure) we would be told to have Pride in our work.  This confused my simple, youthful mind.  But when I asked for an explanation I was told not to be impertinent. 

I think that, all these years later, I understand the issue a little better.  

My understanding of pride is that it includes a pleasure or satisfaction taken in something done by or belonging to oneself or which reflects credit upon oneself, for example, civic pride.  I rather think that my close family in general fall into that category.

I am proud of my children (I'm unsure about the grammatical way of expressing that now that Andrew is dead).  I'm proud of their achievements.  I'm proud of their independence.   I'm darned sure that their Mum feels the same.