If only I was poorer. If only we were on “home relief.” Then I would be able to have that soup. The poor children can eat lunch in the basement of P.S. 54. They get to have that soup; that tomato soup; that warm reddish orange bowl of cream of tomato soup.
I can never ever forget the aroma of the tomato soup emanating from the basement lunchroom. How I longed to taste that soup, to join the lucky children who were served that soup .I can’t describe that scent, except to say the aroma was a delicious one.
I walked home for lunch. Momma usually served me bananas and sour cream, maybe cream cheese and jelly on Wonder Bread or cold grated tomatoes soup. Momma never made hot tomato soup.
As an adult, when I now open a can of Cambell’s Tomato Soup and add some milk, I have a correct visual of the cream of tomato soup but never that reminiscent scent.
Ethyl Haber
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