For some reason, the jingling sounds of the ice cream truck seem to wind their way through our neighborhood only on Sundays. Since we do our best to observe the Sabbath, even spending a buck-fifty on a snow cone is something we try to avoid.
This can be quite disappointing to a little 6-year-old, as you can imagine.
After a few experiences of letting the ice cream man pass us by, Warren told me that he was going to pray that the truck would come on a different day. I smiled and told him it was a noble request.
Summer ended, 1st grade started, and we all forgot about the roving popsicle dispenser. But as we were coming home from school this afternoon, we heard the familiar sound of “Turkey in the Straw” and watched as the colorful truck turned down a nearby street.
We pulled into our driveway and Warren rushed into the house to dig out his coins. After a few minutes I began to worry that the truck had already passed our street. But to our delight, we heard the mechanical music drawing closer. Warren ran out to flag him down and the two older kids made their first purchase from the ice cream man this summer season.
It’s such a small, nonessential thing. I know Warren’s faith would not have been rocked if the ice cream man had never made it to our neck of the woods. But he did and I know it was an answer to Warren’s innocent prayer. Warren knows it too. His gratitude was reflected in his prayer that evening.
And in his devouring of the long-awaited snow cone.
Just one more drop in Warren’s faith bucket. Mine too.
P.S. It turns out you can actually schedule this ice cream man to come to your neighborhood or even to a party or event. The first one I’ve heard that makes house calls! So, if you live in Central Coastal California, be sure to arrange your own visit.