Ice Cream Cones

There are so many ways in which we recall the events in our life. People talk about having a good memory or a poor memory or as some older people may phrase it a head for recalling things.

All that I have seen teaches me to trust the creator for all I have not seen
Author: Ralph Waldo Emerson

I find that I use all of my senses to bring back events. The bigger the event the more triggers there are to recall it.

When I was a child summer was a magical time. It seemed to last forever and there were so many things to do. We lived in a small farming community. Each month of the summer seemed to have a special celebration that marked the passing of the days. To recall many of the events I simply have to see ice cream cones and the long days of summers of a simpler time of life can be relived. While I was growing up I did not realize the number of occasions that featured ice cream cones as part of the celebrations. Now reflecting back I realize that the big round tubs of ice cream and stacks of cones were part of all the church celebrations.

Miracles aren't limited to the Holidays~ Dove Milk Chocolate wrapper
Author: Tracey Sweeney

Also whenever we were rewarded for a job well done, we were taken on a drive to the Dairy Queen to have ice cream cones.

My father especially liked ice cream. When I was growing up there were not the multitude of flavors that are available today, although that would not have made any difference to my dad anyway because he usually picked vanilla ice cream. On a rare occasion if he was feeling especially daring he would pick maple nut. Every year on Fathers Day mom would dig out the old ice cream freezer and would make the recipe for ice cream. The batter was poured in the maker and it was sealed then ice and salt would be placed around the cylinder and we would all take turns cranking the churn until the ice cream was formed. Mom would then make us ice cream cones and we would sit outside and have our dessert before supper, no wonder summer seemed like it was magical.

Today I can recall these happy times of sitting in my parents yard, visiting with relatives, playing softball and relaxing in the sunshine, just by walking past an ice cream parlor. These memories are also triggered when I see others eating ice cream cones or when I see cans of Hersheys syrup. There are other smells, tastes and sights that recall family memories for me, but the happiest seem to center around ice cream cones.

All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love.
Author: Leo Tolstoy

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