And what adventures! From ducking flying shrapnel to caring for illegitimate children and running war nurseries with rockets whistling overhead.
During World War Two, I encountered German Luftwaffe pilots, draconian hospital matrons, doyennes of England’s oldest nanny school, East End mums, and lords and ladies, but surviving the war was only part of the story.
I’ve had my heart broken and battered, been betrayed and bombed, but I’ve kept smiling throughout. Being a nanny is not for the fainthearted, you know! It’s a calling, not a career, that’s for certain.
But I owe my profession a debt of gratitude. Looking after babies and children has kept the sparkle in my eye and the spring in my step.
They say caring for children keeps you young. Perhaps that’s why I was able to come out of retirement at eighty years old, meaning, I am proud to say, I’ve been a nanny for sixty-two glorious years. Surely that makes me Britain’s longest serving nanny?
There has never been a dull moment. Children have moved me from extremes of despair and heartache to sheer joy and helpless giggles.
I never dreamed when I graduated from the Norland Institute at eighteen that I’d still be looking after babies when I was eighty!
Which just goes to show that if your heart is full of love for little children, your body will keep on going.
I never did find true love or have a child to call my own. There were simply too many babies who needed my love.
Yes, I sacrificed my dreams of finding love and having my own family to care for the offspring of others but I have not one single regret.
I’ve seen child care trends come and go, but the only thing any mother need really do is to give her whole heart over to love. If she does this, the rewards will be endless.
In sixty-two years I hope I have imparted a little of that love, magic, and wisdom. I am still in touch with many of those children today and every year at Christmas and birthdays I am rewarded with many letters and photos from my “babies” all grown up.
These days, my life is a little less eventful. I live in sheltered accommodation, and I still find it a surprise to be called Brenda. I’m so used to being called Nanny, you see. But I have the memories of a thousand cuddles from chubby arms. Those smiles and the magical sound of a child’s laughter will keep me going for a few more years yet.
I daresay as a Norland nurse I could have worked for royalty or diplomats and traveled the world. But I didn’t. I’m proud to say I stayed on British soil and did my duty.
It’s funny, the word duty is almost regarded as a dirty word these days, but for me it means being proud to be associated with a cause in which you believe, proud to be in the service of children.
In 1953 our queen had the responsibilities of a nation placed on her twenty-five-year-old shoulders when she was crowned in a spectacular coronation, in which she promised to be a “servant to my people.” An onerous promise for one so young. The same year I was awarded my badge of merit from the Norland for more than five years faithful service to one family. I daresay our duties are a little different, but our intentions are the same.
Today the queen is eighty-seven and I am ninety-two, and we can both look back on a long and happy life spent in the service of people who depended upon us.
I like to think I did my little bit to help secure the safety and freedom of our children, and I found love by the bucket load along the way.
The Norland motto is “Love never faileth.” I hope I never have failed a single child.
More than anything, I hope I have lived my life nobly, bravely, and with honesty, virtues I hold dear. I never made much money being a nanny, but I don’t give two hoots for that. I can’t take it with me, so what is the point of having a well-stuffed bank account? Instead, I have something far, far more valuable—sixty-two years in the service of children, and that, in my opinion, is priceless. Children should be cherished, loved, adored, and nurtured every day and at every stage of their lives. At ninety-two, of course I am now at a stage in my life where I start to reflect on my passing, but I don’t fear it; oh no, I know exactly where I am going.
In heaven I will be able to look down and watch over all my babies. Until then, I thank each and every one for a truly magical and blessed life.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
I FOUND THE FOLLOWING HELPFUL during the process of writing A Spoonful of Sugar:
The Hothfield History Society; Geoff Webb, author of A Redbourn Commoner; Katherine Stone of the War Studies Department, Kings College, London; Penelope Stokes, author of Norland: The Story of the First One Hundred Years, 1892–1992, published by the Norland College in 1992; Susan Briggs, author of Keep Smiling Through and The Home Front: War Years in Britain, 1939–1945 (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson Ltd., 1975); Kevin Telfer, author of The Remarkable Story of Great Ormond Street Hospital (London: Simon & Schuster, 2008); and Richard Holmes, author of Tommy: The British Soldier on the Western Front, 1914–1918 (London: Harper Perennial, an imprint of HarperCollins, 2004).
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Brenda Ashford is a graduate of Norland College, a world-famous institute for British nannies. For sixty-two years, she cared for more than one hundred children, making her Britain’s longest-serving nanny. She lives outside London and still regularly bakes chocolate cake for her many former charges who visit her weekly.
ABOUT THE CO-WRITER
Kate Thompson is a freelance journalist with more than fifteen years’ experience. Previously, she was deputy editor of the award-winning Pick Me Up magazine, helping to launch it in 2005. She writes for Marie Claire, the Sunday Mirror, and The Daily Mail, among others.
Here I am with my siblings, Kathleen (left) and Michael (right). There was never a dull moment, nor was I ever short of a playmate or two.
Hallcroft, the house my father built in 1929. Here we enjoyed an idyllic childhood. The garden and surrounding fields were a perfect playground.
My precious leather-bound Norland Testimonial Handbook, given to me on my first day of training, March 23, 1939, aged eighteen.
The Norland “charge” dress worn for special occasions.
The drafty lecture hall. Note the ever-open window.
(Courtesy of Norland College)
The dreaded laundry. We spent many hours toiling here.
(Courtesy of Norland College)
Nurses on pram parade, ready for the afternoon inspection.
(Courtesy of Norland College)
Me in October 1959 with Mrs. Judith Beecroft and her two charming children, Jonathan and Sarah. They were always impeccably turned out and very well mannered. A credit to mother and nanny.
Cherishing another newborn baby during my troubleshooting years. No matter how many babies I held, nothing beat the enormous thrill of holding a fresh new life in my arms. The look on my face says it all.
Helping Kathleen, the midwife, with her charges.
A fully fledged nurse with my young charges.
In my seventies and still going strong. My hair may have faded to gray and my face crinkled with laughter lines, but my devotion to child care was stronger than ever.
Pages from my testimonial book. It was always nice to receive praise and recognition for my work, but being with the children was enough reward.
A reunion of some of the babies I have looked after in recent years.
A Spoonful of Sugar Page 32