Making a Difference.

December 1972, I was 11 years old and in the 6th grade. My school was participating in a canned food drive for the poor, where each classroom competed for who could collect the most cans of food. The top prize… a cake for the classroom with the most cans collected. 

Each morning that December, classmates lined up to add their contribution to the brown barrel that stood in the front of the room. By December 20th Mr. Martinez’s class was in the lead. Mrs. Shephard’s class was coming in second and Mrs. Halverson’s class, my class, trailed the other two, but by just a few cans. By this time, it seemed that everyone had contributed a can. Well, almost everyone. I wondered if anyone noticed I had not contributed one. The days were clicking passed and the pressure was on. I had to come up with a canned good the following Monday, the last day of the drive. Unfortunately for me, I knew how bare the cupboard at home was. My chances for cake were running slim.

MMM. Cake!

You see, two years prior, my parents divorced and my family was feeling the pinch. My father provided some child support, and my mother worked a part time job. Our Grandma would come visit every few months and bring us canned goods like canned fruit, string beans, corn, grapes, and tomato paste which would always make a difference helping my mom stretch here dollars, but it seemed like we were always struggling to make ends meet, and during the holidays season, even more so. That afternoon when I returned home from school the conversation went like this…

“Mom, can I have a can of food for the food drive at school? There’s a competition and the winning class is gonna get a cake.”  

I would like to think it was my desire to do good and make a difference that drove the need to contribute, but hey let’s be honest, I was 11 years old and it was the cake, and a bit of embarrassment thinking “what if someone noticed I hadn’t put a can in the barrel?” that pushed me onward.

“Let’s see what we can find.” Mom said as we walked to the back porch where we kept the canned goods. Looking into the depths of the cupboard it was clear there wasn’t much to choose from, a couple of rusty cans of grapes and a can of tomato paste; Contadina. I knew the canned goods would go to poor families to help them with their Christmas dinners, but grapes and tomato paste? “Who eats that for Christmas!” I said.

“I’m sorry but that’s all we have honey.” My mother replied apologetically. I looked over the cans contemplating the humiliation if caught contributing either. Reluctantly, I selected the Tomato paste.

The next day I trotted confidently to the front of the class and the canned food barrel. I had the can of tomato paste tucked away in my coat pocket. The upside to that tomato paste was that it fit nicely in my hand. No one would see the label. I made sure I caught Mrs. Halverson’s eye as I walked to the barrel and dropped in my offering. With a big smile on my face and a feeling of accomplishment I returned to my desk. I felt like I did make a difference… because what do you know my can helped to push our class contributions to the finish line., winning the top prize… that cake!

Later that month, on December 24th there was a knock at the front door of our home. My mom answered and standing there before her was a parent from my school holding a box containing a turkey, fixings for Christmas dinner, and bunch of canned goods, one being a can of Contadina tomato paste! My mother looked at the can and looked at me and we both chuckled, knowing where that can came from. 

I didn’t think of my family as being in the group of poor that need contributions of food. But the reality was, we were. That Christmas, the gift of a box of food generously provided by others, made a difference. It didn’t just fill our bellies, it also filled our home with joy and laughter. We had something special to share for Christmas dinner, and something extra…Contadina tomato paste! “Who eats that for Christmas?” I guess we do! 

So, this is just a little insight on how your generosity towards those less fortunate, like contributions to local food drives and food pantries, doesn’t just provide food, it provides hope, and sometimes if you're lucky, a lot of joy and laughter. 

This season, know that you can make a difference. Please consider giving and giving generously. I can speak from experience when I say the families that receive are truly grateful, as mine was.

Me and my family.