Many years ago, when I was a school kid, I recall walking home for lunch every day.Sounds strange, I know. These days one almost has to live right across the street from the school to be able to do such a thing, and I also recall there weren't many of us that did go home.But we would be dismissed a few minutes early, and then when we came back, if we were a little late, there would be a phone call to the home to be sure to send us back earlier the next day. I was never chastised for being late coming back. I would walk two blocks to the house in all kinds of weather and come in the back door, coming in on the basement landing,and then just three steps up to the kitchen door. Bama was always right there, with something fragrant and bubbling on the stove, having already started dinner,and usually with something in the oven as well. But along side all of that, she would also have a saucepan with my soup in it,hot and ready to be served,and at my place-setting on the kitchen table, my sandwich,or the bun for it, would already be there.And this is the way it would go. I would have either a bowl of chicken noodle soup,and a cold meat sandwich, or vegetable beef,with a hot dog, all steaming placed on the bun, ready for whatever condiments I wanted on it,or on Friday, there was always tomato soup,and a grilled cheese sandwich. With that, I had a glass of cold milk, and a handful of crackers. I walked in, took off my coat,washed my hands, sat down, and as we said our hello's, she would serve me my lunch.Set her own lunch on the table, we would say grace...or the blessing,she would turn on the radio, and while we ate, she would listen to her "story". The only time I was allowed to talk, was when the soap commercials were on, but I didn't care. I had just so much time to eat, run up to the bathroom, and then be on my way again, back to school.Sometimes along side my plate there would also be an orange, an apple, or a cupcake,which I usually had to just stuff in my coat pocket and eat it on the way back to school.
Then all at once, things changed. Oh, the lunch stayed the same, but now, instead of sitting at the table with me,Bama would go into the living room for her story.That was the year we got our television set.And, once I finished lunch, I would go join her,and watch" The Guiding Light". The stories were very much like the ones on the radio, but now there was no narrator. We could actually see the people as they moved through their normal little lives,see the tears when the problems came, and watch as they either went to their pastor,or cried out to God to help them. Or, as they rejected the pastor's advice, and got themselves into terrible trouble,and then in the end, a policeman, or a doctor,or the pastor would deliver the moral of the story. I really don't remember much about those stories now,but I am sure those morals are embedded in my sub-conscious,and are responsible for my cautious nature when I am approached with an unsavory suggestion,or a few guys getting their faces slapped.
All I really remember is the stories were sweet and wholesome and suitable for a child to watch...unlike today, where you wouldn't dare let an elementary school child watch them,for fear they would pick up the kind of behavior the characters now act out. I mean, after all. The only time you see scenes in todays soap operas set in a church, is for a wedding, or a funeral,and then, only for startling revelations!!
OUI?
Comments