Blessed to Bless! by Steve Klusmeyer
Untouched Sandwiches
by Gussie M. Gregory
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Last-Day-of-School Picnic
We had been given our report cards and were anxiously waiting to get started on the last day of school picnic. At last Mr. Howard had everything in order and led the way alongside the farmer's field to the fence where we climbed over, under, and through into the pasture.The youngest of the fifty-seven students scattered, like a flock of chickens turned out of a coop, running and yelling, swinging lunch pails high over their heads. Little girls sang and laughed as they skipped along, while the more reserved group walked with the teacher. We were on our way to the Big Mountain one-half mile away … and in 1922 that was a very exciting trip … especially for the very young.
Arriving at our destination, we were surprised to see a group of mothers had brought boxes of food and were enjoying a day of visiting too. Placing their lunch pails with the boxes, most of the children, especially the boys, raced one another up the side of the mountain while the girls darted here and there picking the blue and white daisies that peeked from the grass.
After an hour of boisterous playing, one by one the children began wandering
over to the lunch area. So the mothers spread lunch cloths and from the boxes
took salads, fried chicken, ham sandwiches, deviled eggs, and cakes and cookies
of all kinds. Then taking the lunches from the pails they placed it on
plates. But when I saw one lady with my brother's pail take out the home-made
bread and Karo sandwich and look at it with a "What in the world is this?"
expression on her face, I picked up my own pail and hung onto it.
Mama never bothered to fix extras for our lunch … she was always having another baby. Anyway, we were too poor to have any extra. Even when the hens were laying we didn't eat eggs … they had to be sold to buy flour, sugar, coffee, salt, oatmeal, … and more White Karo Syrup.
My six-year-old brother ignored his sandwiches. He ate his fill of fried chicken and salad, and finished off with a huge piece of chocolate cake!
To my seven-year-old mind, it just wasn't right to reject my simple daily fare when something fancier came along, so I thoughtfully munched a Karo sandwich.
When the mothers began clearing things away, I picked up my brother's untouched sandwiches and carefully put them in his pail. The three little ones at home would eat them and think they were a special treat. They didn't know there were any other kind.
Learn more about the history of Karo Syrup
-FYI from Steve … Gussie M. Gregory was my Aunt Gussie and one of the three little ones at home was my dad, known as Pete.