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.

The Dream

You and I

step into the boat.

It teeters

until we find our center.

Within the crystal current

minnows dart below.

Emerald leaves of aspen trees

wave a warm hello.

Soon canyon walls close in

narrowing the flow,

we have no oars, the rapids roar

nowhere else to go.

Yet, laughter bubbles from within

as the wet jets play.

The current carries the two of us

in our little boat…

forever.