When I was going to school at the one room school house in the mountains of northern Wyoming, we all had to bring our lunches from home. A couple of my brothers and sisters would share a lunch box. Even though our lunch box wasn't as fancy as some of the kids new boxes with cool pictures, our lunches were the best.
Mom would have made us sandwiches with fresh homemade bread--maybe peanut butter and jam, or thin sliced meat left over from last nights supper. There would be some fruit that she had canned, and probably a crisp oatmeal cookie. We thought that we were special when we found a leftover pancake from breakfast, sprinkled with powdered sugar and rolled tightly (today's crepes); And always fresh milk from last night's milking.
Some kids would only have a fried egg sandwich on store bread in their fancy pails. We pitied them. So maybe our lunch containers weren't as nice as theirs, but nobody had food that could compare to ours. We thought we were rich.