The Lunch Box

Cobwebs brushed across my face

As I cracked the cellar door

Hiding somewhere in this place

My childhood past was stored.

There upon a table

Sat a white box brown with rust.

The letters on its label

Spelled my name beneath the dust.

This was the lunch box I loathed,

Ashamed to carry each day.

Its trim of flowers and bows,

Couldn’t hide what it conveyed.

I was a girl of humble means

Whose parents were simple and poor.

School-bought lunch, a luxury,

That I could never afford.

The box now empty, thermos gone

Scenes of my childhood arose

Mother rising before the dawn

To warm my soup on the stove.

I know my parents worked so hard

And gave all they could to me.

This homely box, I can’t discard

Stored deep like the memories.

Valentine’s Day usually brings with it sentiments about love. I decided to share “The Lunch Box” this week because it expresses my feelings about my parents, my past, and how something so ugly and despised, could change into something beautiful. I still have my Junior Miss lunch box from 1960. Of course, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

I keep my old lunch box because it reminds me that no matter how ugly I might feel, I am loved by God and beautiful in his sight. By the way, God feels the same about you!

Happy Valentine’s Day! Do you keep any relics from your childhood? Leave a comment.

Author: debbieburton.blog

Author, poet, blogger. I am a member of Word Weavers International.

9 thoughts on “The Lunch Box”

  1. Your poem reminds me of my lunch boxes, none of which I own now. I too brought lunches to school with my daily sandwich and milk. Those were simple days that I’ll always cherish. Thank you for the memories!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I remember you sharing this poem with me and we discussed the similarities of our childhoods. Isn’t if funny how something so despised can be a thing of nostalgia and beauty from a different perspective?

    Liked by 1 person

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