Mom

When I was in primary school, my mom packed me special lunches—all three of us kids, in fact. Every day my lunch was in a brown paper bag with my name carefully printed on the front in wax crayon or magic marker. Sometimes Mom used block letters, sometimes bubble letters, or calligraphy, or whatever mood she was in. But always, there was “Sara” on my lunchbag. Often, she also added a sticker or two.

I didn't always like my lunches. They usually included a sandwich, a banana or other fruit, maybe a yogurt cup, and a dessert. Very rarely did I get a juice box with the little straw that always squirted me right in the eye when I stabbed it through the foil circle on the box top. Those were special days. Usually we had peanut-butter and jam. Mom put butter on the bread before the peanut-butter, and that always made it taste richer. Plus it kept the bread from getting soggy from the jam. Once in awhile, I discovered a special sandwich—my favourite: balogna and mayonnaise with alfalfa sprouts. Yum! And the dessert was almost always home-made. None of this Twinkie stuff, or Hostess donuts, or even Oreos. Nope, my mom always gave us fresh cookies, lemon bars, brownies, cake, or whatever she'd happened to bake that week. It irked me sometimes, to watch my friends bite into the store-bought delicacies I never got in my lunch. It also annoyed me that I couldn't buy lunch in the cafeteria as my friends did. I wanted the pizza, the Mexican taco bake, the lasagna, but especially the chocolate milk.

On Valentine's Day Mom put a card in my lunchbag, which had extra stickers that day. Usually it was home-made out of construction paper, decorated with markers and stickers; sometimes it was store-bought. But always, it said in her clear printing—and later script, once I could read cursive—“I love you, Sara. You are special to me!” And there would be something special in that lunch, something Mom knew I particularly liked, such as a pear instead of a banana. Birthdays were similar. A little note always accompanied my lunch on special days, and I could always expect a little treat inside.

Now I make my own lunch every day. Some days I don't even bother and just snack on groundnuts (peanuts) or crackers. Now I buy my own food and know it's cheaper to make a lunch than to buy one. Now I understand that peanut-butter is nutritious and cheap, while balogna is fatty and more expensive (or in Nigeria, non-existent). And that fresh fruit is healthier and cheaper than those little fruit cups, or applesauce.

And now I understand how much my mommy loves me. Happy Birthday, Mom.