When I was growing up, my family was very poor. Food was carefully rationed, and you never ate the last of anything without asking. Lunch was usually a simple peanut butter and jelly sandwich on day-old white bread, or, if we were lucky, a sandwich with only two thin slices of lunch meat.<\/p>\n
When I was 11, I was invited to a friend’s house for lunch. I was amazed by their beautiful home and the table covered with different kinds of bread, meats, condiments, and fresh fruit. Thinking I was being careful, I made my sandwich with just one thick slice of ham because it was much larger than the meat we had at home.<\/p>\n
My friend’s mom looked at my sandwich and exclaimed, “What kind of sandwich is that? You need to put more on it\u2014that’s not enough!” I quietly explained that this was how we made sandwiches at home. She and the rest of the family were shocked, and before I left, they packed a care package filled with food for us.<\/p>\n
When my parents found out what had happened, they were deeply embarrassed that I had revealed how poor we were. After that day, they never allowed me to visit my friend’s house again. It was a simple lunch, but one I have never forgotten.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
When I was growing up, my family was very poor. Food was carefully rationed, and you never ate the last of anything without asking. Lunch was usually… <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":13512,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-13511","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-story"],"yoast_head":"\n