The School Cafeteria

Yesterday was parenting day at my kindergartner's school. He was neither excited nor opposed to Sam and I coming to his territory, but once we got there he was obviously glad to see us. I was surprised at the number of parents that were there, expecting there to be maybe half the parents of the children in the class. But only a few children were without a parent with them, and those kids got to spend lunch and activity time with a volunteer.

It was very strange being back in a school cafeteria again. It's been a while. I would always eat the cafeteria food at lunch, I don't even remember having a lunch box. I have a lot of sad feelings about the school cafeteria. It is where I have most of my memories from school. My sister and I were on the free lunch program, and there is such a stigma associated with that. There were even times that I didn't eat lunch so I wouldn't get stares or feel different.

On this particular day they were having hotdogs, chips or chili. Me, Josh and Sam all had a hotdog, Josh's favorite meal. It was fascinating to watch Josh in his own environment. A environment for the first time that does not include me, I am only a visitor. He was quite comfortable there, not talking much, but he really doesn't. He did all the things he was supposed to do, how he was supposed to do it. He loves structure and knowing what comes next. He was proud to lead Sam and I around the school that day.

I was so glad to get the opportunity to spend that precious time with him, in this moment when he still thinks it's cool to hang out with his mom. When he got off the bus that day, he ran to me and said, "Mom! I really loved it when you came to my school and had lunch with me!"

Another small piece of my broken heart mended...

I packed his lunch...

Yesterday was my oldest son's first field trip at school. I was excited for him. He asked me lot's of questions about it..."Will I ride the bus there? Will I be on a different bus than the one that takes me to school and brings me home? What will we be doing there" All very good questions. One thing that struck me though, was what he didn't ask: "Will I have lunch to eat?" Why did I think of that? Why did it strike me as strange?

There I was in the kitchen, putting his crackers, apple, chips, juice box and a special treat of pumpkin cookies all together in a plastic grocery bag. I carefully tied the bag and got out the post it notes and with a black sharpie, wrote his name, his teachers name and K (for kindergarten), then used packaging tape to affix it to the grocery bag. I used three long pieces of tape. I worried it would get lost. I got a sinking feeling in my stomach when I thought of what he would do if he lost his lunch. It was the same feeling I had as a little girl who didn't have a lunch, a pencil, clean clothes, a snack, money for the book fair...and on and on.

I can't help but think about those few little ones in our school, in our community, in our state, in our country, in our world who are forgotten. They are forgotten by their parents. The only people in the world who's sole responsibility it is to look out for them, and they choose not to. It breaks my already broken heart. My boys, have a lunch. I make sure of it. I pack it or ensure of it each and every day, and for that I am so grateful. Each day that I provide their "lunch" my heart is healed a little more.

Tabitha