Mustard and Onion Sandwiches

Hardly a Summer passes when I don't remember Mom feeding me mustard and onion sandwiches.  She would toast up two slices of white bread, spread mustard on both sides and add onion slices.  I never missed the meat.  Back in the hollow, I didn't realize it was because we had run out out of food before payday.  Mom found a way to make a meal stretch without making us feel deprived.  Almost once a week we would have SOS on toast.  SOS you ask?  It's a white gravy with ground beef or chipped beef crumbled in for good measure.  If times were really good, she would serve it with green peas on top.  As a child, I hated green peas.  I've come to accept them as an adult.  But, back in the hollow, Daddy tried to make me eat them one night at supper.  I made a production of picking a pea up off the plate, placing it carefully on my spoon, and then putting it in my mouth.  Then I took a big gulp of milk and swallowed it whole while making a disgusting face and shaking all over.  After the third pea, Daddy gave up and told me to leave the table.  He'd be rolling in the floor with laughter if he saw me willingly eating them today.