Packing school lunches

I read a Facebook comment on trying to pack school lunches this morning. What memories flooded my mind. I wonder how many could begin to relate to the time I was in school and my mother packed my lunch.

In the early 1940's we were tenant farmers growing most of what we ate. There was no choice in the matter, that was just the way it was then. There were few trips to the grocery store. I recall several occasions of sitting in the back seat of the old family car with my two brothers and one sister while mother and daddy went into the store to purchase things that would be needed for putting food on the table. I remember they had to purchase some things with ration stamps as we were allowed only so much coffee, sugar, gasoline and other products. It was the time when America was dealing with a deep depression and two world wars. Everyone was called upon to tighten their belts. Our first concern was the men who were fighting to protect America. They needed our support. They got it without argument.

At the cost of 5 cents, a loaf of "store bought" bread was a rare thing. It was just not possible to justify that when mother could make biscuits for breakfast and cornbread for dinner and supper. The remembrance of the loaf of bread brings to mind one of my most embarrassing moments. Because 'light bread' was a rare thing being the consumer of the heal of the bread was based upon which child "called" it first. On this one occasion when I was about 9-10 years old I had waited all day, thinking of that piece of bread.

We lived about a mile off the road where the school bus picked us up and dropped us off each day. It was quite a walk to the old farmhouse and being the youngest I was usually last to get there. It can be assumed I was not going to reach that piece of bread before the other kids got home. This day I decided I was going to have that tasty morsel, no matter what it took. I would remember to "call" it before anyone else thought of it. Oh, what that bus load of kids must have thought when, before stepping off the bus I yelled; "I get the bread tonight!" Of course I got the end piece of the coveted store-bought bread, but at what price! I don't recall ever needing that particular piece bad enough to yell it out the second time in hearing distance of all my peers.

It was not that we did not eat well, we did. We grew what we ate. During this season of the year we were busy canning. We started the summer by planting a garden. It was an ample garden for a family of six. An acre of ground will produce lots of potatoes, corn, tomatoes, green beans, carrots. beets, turnips, sweet potatoes, cabbage and other things that could be preserved for the winter months. We would make trips to the near-by woods to pick blackberries. Now that I am older, I know my mother was a sneaky person. She had her reasons, of course. I never understood why it was so important to wear boots, long pants, long-sleeved shirts and let her lead the way sporting a walking stick. I know now what that was all about. Did you know SNAKES live in berry bushes??? Well, I sure didn't. Had I have known, I would have had to been dragged kicking and screaming into those woods. Mom was smart. She kept us involved in seeing other things. I remember the smell of the May apples as we passed by a tree. Now don't ask me what a May apple is, I really have no idea. But I do know it had one of the sweetest smells ever. As we walked along looking up to find May apples was her way making sure should a snake slither across the path we would not be seeing it. Sneaky, smart mom. I have to smile.

When all the canning was finished it was time for school to start. I miss those days of anticipation that held my sister and I captive as we sat under a shade tree shelling beans by the bushel. I didn't even mind the long walk to the bus. Now I would need a motorized vehicle for that task. The years do take a tole.

The school had a lunch room, but that cost money that was not available. Mother packed our lunch every morning. Folks, we didn't even have little brown bags in which to carry a sandwich. Mother used old newspapers, or cut up brown grocery bags tied with string to wrap things. I never gave it a thought. It was just the way it was. I noticed others with lunch pails, but I wasn't jealous. I was happy with what I had. Inside that paper tied with a string I would find a fried egg sandwich on a biscuit, or peanut butter and jelly on a biscuit. I remember one time, mother made cornbread and brought it to school for our dinner. This was when we were in a one-room school around Plain City. I recall the kids wanting to trade their lunches of lunch meat on light bread for our plain ole biscuit and egg. I thought they were weird. How could anyone prefer what I had to eat every day over a real sandwich? It was beyond my pattern of thought. At times we would have a treat of homemade jelly on a biscuit. That was the extent of dessert. We never had carrot sticks, or celery sticks like some of the others. I don't recall taking anything to drink. It is amazing to look back at those times now. It is totally foreign to today's youth to live with so little and be happy.

So, now Facebook friend, are you ready to tackle the grocery store? Don't you wish you too was living in a more laid-back time, when life was made up of just biscuits and cornbread? I know, if I were packing a lunch I would be inclined to "allow" my children to see that side of life. I wonder what the outcome of that would be.