Monday, December 12, 2005

brown bag lunch

Unless you walk out into the unknown, the odds of making a profound difference in your life are pretty low.
Tom Peters

One of my favorite memories of my mom is when I was in the 3rd grade. I was in a combination class of both 3rd and 4th graders so it was already an interesting year. Secretly, I was attached to Mrs. Bragg still who was my teacher the first part of the school year but the combo class was something new they were trying...Some kind of experiment that was predicted to help advance learning. At the end of the school year we had testing going on. Instead of getting lunch from the cafeteria that day, we had to bring our own lunch to school -- it was a brown bag day. Well, my mom was not familiar with the "brown bag" concept. She didn't grow up in this country and typically provided money for hot lunch every day. So, I went home and told her that we needed to have a lunch the next day. She made one for me that morning. It was the best lunch ever in a regular size grocery bag. In it was a hamburger the size of a whopper. I had a full bag of chips that you would bring for a group of friends. I had half a poundcake that was homemade. I don't remember the drink. We didn't grow up with soda so the only thing I could think of was she may have packed some fruit juices for me. The reason I feel I remember this is because that day everyone couldn't help but notice my lunch. It wasn't your typical PB&J with a snack pack of chips. It was a picnic for 5. What I love is that my mom wasn't like everyone else which made me different. Strange enough, I was okay with being different when I was young. I have many stories about other ways I volunteered to be different. I loved that my mom didn't know what a brown bag lunch looked like and I am so glad that I had someone who gave it her best effort even when she really didn't know.

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