Obviously, the primary purpose of school is education aka learning, but I also like the socialization part. I really liked lunch and especially if I had money for milk or a soda pop. As a child, I was always hungry. I felt those hunger pangs the worst when I had to go to school and read and study and concentrate and run and play. I never had enough food and energy for an active, little girl like me.
Additionally, I like surprising others, and I also like being surprised – especially if food is involved. So, this day at school, right in the middle of class, our teacher excused herself and told us to “just sit tight.” She’d be back in a while. I doubt that she used those exact words, but what she meant was stay seated, and don’t leave. Well, during that time, students wouldn’t dare get up out of their seats if the teacher had asked them to stay seated. Well, maybe we could have gotten up and walked around in the classroom, but we knew what she meant. We were not to go out of the classroom for any reason.
Nevertheless, we were dying to go take a peek, but as we were instructed, we stayed glued to our seats. Being the shy, backward, country kids we were, I don’t think any of us thought the teacher was up to anything sinister. And even though our curiosity was getting the best of us, still, we stayed in the classroom – our little minds wondering where Miss Teacher had gone. I guess we thought she was in the restroom. That’s the most logical explanation, but later on, we found out that she wasn’t in the “outhouse” after all.
Then, after a good little while, Mrs. Smith came back and stuck her head in the door. There was a smile on her kind, pretty, sweet face and in her usual, gentle manner, she said, with a motion of her head, “OK, students, all of you can now come out. Proceed directly to the auditorium and take a seat.” We, her obedient charges, did exactly as we were told and went into the auditorium. She had to tell us to take a seat, because we stood at the door just gazing at all those sumptuously, deliciously place setting.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. The tables were spread with lip-smackin’ tuna sandwiches and potato chips and an assortment of soft drinks. Now, I have to confess. I had never eaten tuna, but boy, were those sandwiches good. I had never had those little, chopped up pieces of green stuff (relish); nor had I had those small, sprinklings of red pieces (pimientos). I was poor and country and backward and had never seen pimientos. The Miracle Whip was familiar, but the other things were a bit exotic to me.
Now, the food was delicious, but, as the old saying goes, “Food is so much tastier when someone else prepares it for you than when you make it yourself.” That may not be true, but it seem that way, does it not? Even a peanut butter and jelly sandwich tastes better when you don’t have to make it yourself.
Well, anyway, whether that’s true or not, we kids sat there and had the feast of our little lives. To me, it was more than just the food. The main ingredient that was added that made the sandwiches and chips so good was the extra serving of genuine, unconditional love. Love makes even the worst meal taste deliciously good.
Photo: Fotolia/RoJo Images
