THE LUNCH BAG
(a true story of Robert Fulghum and his 7-year-old daughter
Molly)
It was Molly's job to hand her father his brown paper lunch bag
each morning before he headed off to
work. One morning, in addition to his usual lunch bag, Molly
handed him a second paper bag. This one
was worn and held together with duct tape,staples, and paper
clips. "Why two bags" Fulghum asked. "The
other is something else,"Molly answered.
"What's in it?" "Just some stuff. Take it with
you." Not wanting to hold court over the matter, Fulghum
stuffed both sacks into his briefcase, kissed Molly and rushed
off. At midday, while hurriedly scarfing down
his real lunch, he tore open Molly's bag and shook out the
contents:two hair ribbons, three small stones, a
plastic dinosaur, a pencil stub,a tiny sea shell, two animal
crackers, a marble, a used lipstick, a small doll,
two chocolate kisses, and 13 pennies. Fulghum smiled, finished
eating, and swept the desk clean - into the
wastebasket - leftover lunch, Molly's junk and all.
That evening, Molly ran up behind him as he read the
newspaper."Where's my bag?" "What bag?"
"You
know, the one I gave you this morning." "I left it at
the office. Why?" "I forgot to put this note in
it," she
said. "And, besides, those are my things in the sack, Daddy,
the ones I really like - I thought you might
like to play with them, but now I want them back. You didn't lose
the bag, did you, Daddy?" "Oh, no," he
said, lying. "I just forgot to bring it home. I'll bring it
tomorrow." While Molly hugged her father's neck, he
unfolded the note that had not made it into the sack: "I
love you, Daddy." Molly had given him her
treasures. All that a 7-year-old held dear.
Love in a paper sack, and he missed it - not only missed it, but
had thrown it in the wastebasket.
So back he went to the office. Just ahead of the night janitor,
he picked up the wastebasket and poured
the contents on his desk. After washing the mustard off the
dinosaurs and spraying the whole thing with
breath-freshener to kill the smell of onions,he carefully
smoothed out the wadded ball of brown paper, put
the treasures inside and carried it home gingerly, like an
injured kitten. The bag didn't look so good, but
the stuff was all there and that's what counted.
After dinner, he asked Molly to tell him about the stuff in the
sack.
It took a long time to tell. Everything had a story or a memory
or was attached to dreams and imaginary
friends. Fairies had brought some of the things. He had given her
the chocolate kisses, and she had kept
them for when she needed them. "Sometimes I think of all the
times in this sweet life," Fulghum concludes
the story, "when I must have missed the affection I was
being given.
"A friend calls this 'standing knee deep in the river and
dying of thirst'."
We should all remember that it's not the destination that counts
in life - it's the journ