No meatballs, please

For the most part I was a brown bagger at school. Two of my all time favorites sandwiches were mackerel and baked bean/mustard accompanied by the obligatory piece of fruit, a baggie full of chips, and a candy bar (thank you Mom!). But, on the rare Wednesday when my school offered chicken and biscuits and on fish sandwich Friday, my folks ponied up for a hot lunch. The folks behind the food line were nice enough, for sure, but does anyone really recall giving what they did a second thought. Last night I got a real taste of what they endured day after day, week after week, year after year. I volunteered at a spaghetti dinner.

I was in charge of serving up spaghetti, sauce and three meatballs a piece (no more, no less!) – mostly for the hoards of folks who opted for “take out”. Of all the “eat ins” who went through the line, one young man stands out in my mind. He couldn’t have been more than 9 years old. He looked me square in the eyes and said “May I have spaghetti, lots of sauce and no meatballs, please. I’m a vegetarian .” Proof manners have not escaped our youth!

After three and a half hours of standing behind a steam table on hard floors while trying to balance take-out containers in one hand while filling with spaghetti that was almost life like in its attempt to escape, my job was done. My back hurt, my feet hurt, I was hot and tired. But I left with more than that which I’d arrived. I left with a true and expanded appreciation for those folks who serve up our rations each day, be they at school, McDonalds, the local diner, wherever. Thanks to you all!

On a personal note, to the cafeteria folks of Norwood-Norfolk Central School, I send you long, personal overdue THANKS and sincerely hope that someone is making you dinner tonight.