Sunday, February 14, 2010

Ice Cream

I was walking down the street last week when an ice cream parlor sign caught my eye. The snow on the ground did not matter it was a warm 38 degrees. I went in and ordered a strawberry cone. Sitting outside in the crystal cold world my memory drifted to another time and place.

We are sitting on the porch watching the cars go by. Grandpa takes out his handkerchief and wipes his brow. “Whew it’s a warm day,’ we rock and listen to the bees buzz lazily by. “I need refreshment Marcia how about an ice cream." “Yes! Yes”, I reply. The aging gentleman rises from his rocking chair and slips his hand into mine. Great grandpa and child set off down the street. As we walk Grandpa talks about the world around us, “The dogwoods are blooming, the hydrangeas are in full color, Miss Cora is a nice soul works with the invalids every week. The pecans are just bursting into bloom, hope we have a good crop this year. Good day Miss Lulu Bell. That’s a fine woman, raised a good brood. She’s a second cousin you know. Oh good afternoon Reverend Hill that was a fine sermon Sunday.” "Glad you enjoyed it Mr. Lee.” “Well we did.” “It was good to see you all in church.” “I was happy to have my family around me.” Reverend Hill stooped down, “I was pleased to see you in church Sunday.” “Thank you sir,” I replied. Tipping his hat he walked away.

We continued toward the ice cream. Miss Daisy, Miss Barbara and Miss Emily all passed and exchanged pleasantries; I was just anxious to get to the ice cream, but Grandpa had to stop and chat and accept the respect of his community. At last the store. “I’ll have a double vanilla, said Grandpa. “What would like Marcia?” “Strawberry,” I replied. A large luscious cone was placed in my hand. My tongue began to rapidly lap up the sweet concoction. The smooth coolness flowed over my tongue and refreshed my whole body. Grandpa and I sat outside under a tree. He said, “Marcia Ice cream is a pleasure to be enjoyed under the shade of a tree on a hot day.” I agreed. After licking the last bit of sweetness we began our trek home. A warm sticky hand was again pressed into an aging one. We had shared an adventure and our souls were secure in our togetherness.

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