Lunchbox

The final countdown is in full swing with just a few days to go until the end of the school year. Students gaze longingly out the classroom window as the teachers never seem to stop giving assignments. Teachers gaze longingly out the window as the students never seem to stop asking, “Do we have to do this?” It’s a tug-of-war that begins in August and finally winds down in May.

There is much to be grateful for as the summer months approach. The early morning pondering of what to wear will become less urgent. The e-mail inbox will begin to taper off into more manageable amounts. The before and after school meetings will be absent from my calendar. The last minute rush to change lesson plans when technology isn’t cooperating will fade away. The battles with the copy machine will vanish. And, perhaps best of all, I won’t have to wolf down my lunch in ten minutes while hunched over my computer, desperately trying to catch up on the latest spate of e-mail demands.

During the school year, my lunches are usually last night’s leftovers, packed into a Glad plastic container. I don’t mind leftovers, but occasionally, the pickings can get a bit skimpy. Some days, peanut butter and crackers are the sum total of Mother Hubbard’s cupboard. Certainly, I will not waste away anytime soon, it’s just that I enjoy a little more leisurely pace to my eating moments.

School lunches have always been pretty basic for me. The small school I attended as a youngster did not offer a hot lunch program. Our metal lunchboxes were all lined up on the shelf above our coat hooks, awaiting recess snack time and a lunch time break. This was before the invention of Lunchables, snack sized candy bars, individually packaged food items and zip-lock baggies. Often, sandwiches were wrapped in squares of waxed paper. The waxed paper served a double duty for us as we used the leftover paper to polish our playground slide into a glorious, high speed alley of recess fun (quite sure that that practice would translate into a lawsuit these days). Sandwiches were simple fare with fillings such as cheese slices, lunchmeats and my personal favorite, bacon. Homemade bars and cookies helped satisfy the sweet tooth.

The highlight of our midday lunch options was the advent of an occasional hot lunch provided by the moms of our school. The menu was pretty much the same each time: barbecue, chips and a sweet treat. I’m sure it was a hassle for our moms to prepare and serve the meals, but it was always greatly appreciated as a welcome break from our wax wrapped sandwiches. In high school the hot lunches became a bit more creative with each class taking turns planning and serving the lunches. Again, the moms were on the receiving end of the work while the students gleefully savored the warm meals and the chance to gather in the gymnasium as a school body at lunch time. Barbecue, chips, buns and pickles continued to be the most frequent menu items, with the addition of our high school’s standard Cherry Dessert.

Throughout the years, my lunch box has gone from a metal pink and white container to a brown paper sack to a plastic square container. The contents have also changed with the passing of time. What hasn’t changed, however, is the symbol of the lunchbox. We should all take a little time during each day to refresh and renew. I, for one, am looking forward to a lunch away from my computer and the chance to eat at less than warp speed.

My grade school lunchbox, circa 1965

 

Here is the original Cherry Dessert recipe submitted to the local high school cookbook by the Junior Class of 1963.

22 crushed graham crackers

½ c. butter, melted

½ c. sugar

Mix and place in bottom of 9x13 pan

¾ pt. whipping cream (we didn’t have Cool Whip back then)

3 cups miniature marshmallows

1 can cherry pie mix

Whip the cream, not too stiff. Stir in the marshmallows and pie mix. Spread over the crust and refrigerate.