I was saddened last year when I read the news account of the fourth-grader in Bountiful, Utah, who, on Ash Wednesday, had been required by his teacher to remove the cross from his forehead, being told that is was inappropriate. The youngster tried to explain the significance of the symbol, but the teacher would have none of it. It is hard to believe that in today’s society any teacher could be so unknowing and insensitive.

I’m guessing that wouldn’t have been the case in Mystic in the 1950s. As a student at Mystic Academy in the Eisenhower years, it was common to see students arrive at school on Ash Wednesday wearing a cross on their forehead. In those days the practice was observed primarily in Roman Catholic churches, but today it has expanded to many other denominations.

These same students were also dismissed early on Tuesdays to attend CCD classes. I assume they walked over to St. Patrick Church, though there may have been parent drivers.

On Fridays the hot lunch menu was always fish sticks. While I was not Catholic, we also ate fish at home every Friday.

At Mystic Academy, we had daily prayer in the classroom. Each day we recited the Lord’s Prayer from the King James translation. This ended when a Jewish child joined the class. After that we recited the 23rd Psalm, also from King James.

It was a different time. Families went to church. Kids went to Sunday School. Any child with perfect attendance was awarded a lapel pin. If someone were out of town, a bulletin from the church he attended was acceptable as evidence of attendance. After the second year of perfect attendance a wreath surrounded the pin and each year thereafter a bar was added. The boys all wore those proudly on the jackets that we wore only on Sundays and special events, and outgrew each year. Mr. Hinkle, the local jeweler who had a shop on West Main Street, would attach the wreath and bars without charge. He also engraved Eagle Scout badges with the date they were awarded.

As we got older and moved on to Fitch Junior High, the separation of church and state was still not evident. I remember as an eighth grader that the class performed Christmas tableaux with Mary Virginia Morgan reading from the Gospel according to St. Luke. It is interesting to note that the girl chosen to play Mary in the tableaux was Jewish.

By the time I was out of college, and had finished my tour of active duty in the Navy and was teaching at Cutler Junior High, the district had moved from a morning prayer to a moment of silent meditation. Early one year I approached our principal, George Sneider, and asked him if he had submitted the capital budget requests. When he said he hadn’t, I asked if I could get something. When he asked what I needed, I told him I wanted kneelers. He looked at me questioningly, and I explained that during the period of silent meditation some of the youngsters were complaining that their knees were getting dirty. He stared at me and said, “Welt, don’t tell me you’re making them kneel! To which I replied, “Gotcha!”

Several years later, when teaching at Fitch Junior High, George Parent, a math teacher from Westerly, and I both appeared on Ash Wednesday with crosses on our foreheads. Several students and faculty members noticed and remarked that they were going to church that evening. One youngster looked puzzled and asked if Mr. Parent and I belonged to some kind of a cult. I told him that that is what people used to call it 2,000 years ago.

Robert F. Welt of Mystic is a retired Groton Public Schools teacher.