Chopstork

My first time in an American school was 2nd grade at Tuckahoe Elementary. My parents told me before I left: “They are going to ask in the morning if you want to buy lunch today. Raise your hand so you get a lunch.” I was alert when class started, waiting for Mrs. Perzkowski (I think that was her name) to ask the question. She ran through her morning ritual, and then, “Who’s getting hot lunch today?” People raised their hands. I hesitated…and didn’t. What’s hot lunch? I need to buy my lunch. My question never came, and I remained silent.

Later in the lunch line she counted heads. One lunch short. Uh oh. If I eat, is someone else going to starve? People started asking questions. Some kid even asked me directly, “Did you raise your hand?” I might have said yes, but my guilt must have shown. How was I supposed to know “hot lunch” was the same thing? Now I’m not getting lunch. I was sad.

Good thing teachers are smart though. Mrs. Perzkowski got me a lunch out of nowhere (I guess when you’re a kid you don’t realize they make extras just in case). I got to eat without taking anyone else’s lunch. After that, lunch was great. I knew to raise my hand for the hot lunch. And I had a friend that would always share her desserts with me. I think I wasn’t allowed to get ice cream for lunch.

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This entry was posted on Thursday, October 12th, 2006 at 10:44 am and is filed under childhood stories. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.