Sunday, August 19, 2012

The Hero




It was at one of those walk-away ice cream stands on the boardwalk in Wildwood, NJ,  that I had the pleasure of witnessing a hero in action! I was about 10 years old at the time and my parents, my brother, Jody, and I were in Wildwood for our yearly vacation. The day was blisteringly hot, so of course, we kids begged for ice cream!  Dad trudged with us through the pure white, lava-hot sand up to the boardwalk where heaven awaited us in the form of double-dip chocolate ice cream cones.

A young father (who seemed so very old at the time to me) and his two little kids were ahead of us in line. His son seemed to be no more than about 5 of 6 years old at the most, and the little girl seemed to be about 3.  They danced impatiently from foot to foot as all kids do, as they watched the man behind the counter dip their ice cream cones. The little boy got his first, a cone wrapped in a napkin but already sending down rivulets of melting ice cream all over his hand. His licked his cone with gusto, with his little sister looking on, barely able to contain herself. At last, her cone was ready. As her dad handed it to her, Jody and I edged a little closer to the ice cream stand. The trio turned to walk away when all of a sudden, tragedy struck!

The little girl’s nose accidentally connected with the ball of ice cream, and in so doing, caused the icy treat to teeter on the edge of the cone. Falling victim to the law of gravity, seemingly in slow-motion the ice cream followed its trajectory to the ground, and landed with a sad and gooey plop. The child’s sweet, cherubic little face changed expression in an instant – from a chocolate-dotted nose atop a happy smile to a grimace of disbelief and then, to a mask of down-right grief. Tears squeezed out of tightly-closed eyes as she began to cry. Hardly missing a beat, her older brother momentarily looked at his ice cream cone, tucked the napkin a little tighter around it and with great ceremony, handed it to his sister.

Everyone around us “Aww’ed!”  and “Ohhhh’ed!” and nodded our heads in approval.  I swear, about five adults rushed to the counter, offering to buy the boy another cone. My dad beat them all to it, including the kids’ father.  But I learned that day that the real hero was that little boy who gave up his ice cream to make his sister happy again.

I ask you:  If that little boy wasn’t a real hero, then who is!

Writers Group Assignment for Sept. 16, 2011