What I Learned From An Empty Box of SALTINE CRACKERS.

My parents had 3 stair-step boys, and as they grew especially into teenagers, their appetites blossomed. Farm boys work hard and they get hungry. I came along 10 years after the last boy and was more like a second family.  Being raised in a rural area of the Midwest, 2nd & 3rd generation European immigrants; family, church and community were everything.  My Dad's side had lots of relatives. "Everybody was a cousin."

We went to lots of potlucks, picnics and family reunions. From Memorial Day to Labor Day, an occasional treat was to go "up north", rent a cabin, fish for Bluegill (especially) and of course, we took our own food along to share. Most times, it was Grandma & Grandpa, aunts, uncles, cousins but that was a tradition on my Mom's side of the family. We had ice chests and food for days. All made from scratch. Farm-to-Table long before we knew that was so cool. Pop, ohhh those were times we might get to drink pop. Only special occasions.

Whatever or wherever it was, my Mom knew that her family ate more. No one ever complained. My Mom packed her picnic containers, her Tupperware and then she looked for "extra containers." That is how empty boxes of Saltines came into my life. She saved these. They were great to pack extra sandwiches in. Perfect shape, nothing got squished. More sandwiches to share, and for the boys.

Now, I cannot look at an empty box of Saltines without thinking of my Mom's awareness (now called mindfulness), her generosity and her sense of fairness. My Dad and her were on the same page with this. 

Best to stop my beloved vintage story here.