Excitement ripped through the air, as my brother and sisters jumped up and down, screaming for joy with arms and legs flailing. They raced to mom and begged for five thin dimes and then raced back out to the street, huffing and puffing as they ran. The Popsicle truck’s music grew louder and more compelling as it drew closer and closer to our home. We scrambled to get our grubby, little hands on those sweet, cold treats on hot summer days. And my mom… well she never said no. Far be it from her to deny us the smallest, sweetest pleasure. She never said no. Amazing. And I love her for that and a million other things she did and still does!

The Popsicle truck came to our street today. It’s more than half a century later, and I’m in another state altogether; but my heart swelled with warm memories and loving thoughts of mom. Thank you, mom, thank you.

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