The Mission Box

Sitting in my seat, swinging my feet back and forth, I stared at the cardboard box on the corner of my teacher’s desk and then back at my hand which held one shiny quarter. It was all I had, and it was for my afternoon juice and pretzel. I sighed as I debated back and forth on whether I should keep it for myself or give it to the poor. The hungry boy on the front of it stared at me, practically foaming at the mouth.

If I don’t give up my quarter, this boy is going to starve to death. This is the message I felt I was getting, and it was a very big weight for a 7-year-old to carry, although it didn’t seem to bother the rest of my greedy classmates. The smell of fresh baked pretzels wafted across the room, diverting my attention to a box sitting on the chair.

Now I know how Eve must’ve felt looking at that apple every day! “I bet it didn’t smell as good, though,” I thought. Just then a snake appeared before my eyes, coiling around the pretzel box. I gasped and rubbed my eyes. It was gone.

Reluctantly, I looked back at the scrawny boy on the picture. “Okay, okay,” I screamed in my mind, “you can have my pretzel!” Geez! I sure didn’t want to be known for all time as the girl who was tempted by a lousy pretzel and lost. I mean wasn’t it bad enough that the female species was doomed for all eternity over a darn apple! I bet Eve was kicking herself in the butt over that.

This scenario was an on-going battle. Every morning I would spend looking at this black & white picture on this tiny box that held so much power over me. Some days it won, and some days it lost. It got so bad that, after running home complaining that I was dying of hunger at lunchtime, my grandmother made sure I had two quarters: one for the box and one for me. This solution contented me for a while, but it wasn’t too long before good ‘ole Catholic guilt seeped in, and I thought how two quarters would sure do this poor boy a lot more good than it did me. My Nan quickly put a stop to that, though.

After scarfing down my peanut butter and jelly sandwich one afternoon and asking for another, my grandmother eyed me suspiciously. “Did you have your snack today?” My eyes darted around the room as if looking for the nearest exit. “I asked you a question.”

“No, Nan. How could I eat that pretzel and drink my iced tea with that little boy looking so hungry?”

My Nan sighed and sat down beside me, “Tammy, there are always going to be hungry children. It’s good that you care about them and that you want to share with them, but we don’t have a lot either. If you can’t make it okay within yourself to just be content with giving one quarter then I won’t give you any. Understood?” Those sad eyes flashed in my head. Thoughts ran through my mind as to how I still had food in my belly where he did not, but, if Nan took the money away, we would both be going hungry at snack time. “Yes, Nan.”

She kissed the top of my head and got up to make me a bigger fatter sandwich with the jelly lapping over the sides. I nearly had to crawl back to school my belly was so full. I smiled the whole way!