Growing up in the ’50s was not easy for a single mom of two. My mom worked full-time to support us, but women did not make much money back then. We did not have food banks to help us out and most of our neighbourhood lived in the same category.

We did not think of ourselves as poor and certainly not starving. There were plum, cherry and apple trees in everyone’s backyard.

Our tinned food came mostly from the discount store where they had buggies filled with canned goods that were dinted, no label or outdated. Fresh produce was purchased from a horse and buggy that came through the city or the farms in the Fraser Valley.

Candy was not thought of until Halloween. Sometimes it was just an apple or popcorn but you gracefully accepted what was given.

Once a week my mom would make a pot of soup with all the leftovers in the fridge and that would last us for days. Once in a while we got fresh hot bread from the grocery store. We usually got our milk from grandma’s farm in the Valley along with fresh vegetable from mom’s garden. We usually had eggs and tea for breakfast and my mom would make our sandwiches for school with eggs before she left for work.

Fortunately, my mom worked at a frozen vegetable plant and was able to bring home vegetables that fell on the floor. My mom would shop from the reduced bin in the winter time so that we had some fresh vegetable and fruit.

What I am saying is that not all food products are top notch and perfect, but if you are hungry you will eat it.

The food bank has become somewhat fussy with donations and watching them throw away good food because it is outdated is heart-breaking.

Rather than discard what they feel is inadequate for their visitors perhaps they could put the unwanted donations in a bin and see how many people would be satisfied with less than perfect.

After all, I survived, and was happy to have food so my belly did not growl.

Val Holroyd