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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Kids
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Life Changing Decisions/Events
- Published: 10/25/2017
The Tinkling Bells
Hearing the tinkling bells of the ice cream truck as it rolled through our neighborhood always had me buzzing with excitement. That’s why I was really going to miss hearing those bells once we moved. You see, my parents and I were leaving our Philadelphia neighborhood for a ranch in Colorado. Dad had inherited the ranch from his grandfather and we were going to live there forever. And even though dad had said he was pretty sure there was an ice cream shop somewhere in the nearby town of Westville, for me, it wasn’t going to be the same.
The beginning of the summer was when we moved. As soon as we arrived at the ranch, dad began showing me how to do stuff. Right away I realized I wasn’t cut out to be a “ranch hand,” as they were called. What I really wanted to do was be a page at the local library the same way I had been back home in my school’s library. Even before we left Philly, I found out that Westville had the best library in the whole county. People from all over came to Westville’s library to check out books and movies and do research. Which was why the moment I saw the sign that said Help Wanted, I asked Mrs. Crowley, the head librarian, if I could volunteer to be a page. After giving me a test to see how knowledgeable I was, she said I had the job.
Mostly my duties were to return to the shelves books and videos that had been checked out; but every once in a while, I also got a chance to show movies to the kids. Dad wasn’t exactly thrilled, but said he understood; not everyone was suited to be a ranch hand. Dad was; he had helped his grandfather on the ranch a lot when he was a kid. Now it was his turn to run it.
One of the library’s amenities, as it was called, was a coffee cart, which sold all kinds of coffee and non-coffee drinks, as well as snacks. It was run by a woman who had a daughter named Sally. Sally and I were in the same grade, but since this was the summer, neither of us was in school yet, so Sally volunteered to show me around the town. On a day when I wasn’t putting up books, we rode our bikes into Westville. Sally and her mother lived just down the road from us, while the town itself began less than a mile from the ranch.
“Now that’s Hanson’s Supermarket where we go shopping.” Sally said, pointing to a huge store with shopping carts in front. “And that’s the feed store where all the ranchers get their supplies from. And that’s the store where we buy most of our clothes and—”
“I know all this,” I said to her. “Right now what I want is to check out what kinds of ice creams Mazie’s has.”
Mazie’s was a bright, shiny, old-fashioned diner looking ice cream shop. I saw it the first time mom and I came into town to stock up on groceries. Dad had stayed behind at the ranch to make sure everything continued to run smoothly.
My anticipation as we approached Mazie’s was running high. But what I wasn’t anticipating was what happened as we entered the shop. Sally pushed open the door ahead of me and that’s when I heard them — the sound of the tinkling ice cream bells — just like those on the ice cream truck back home. Immediately, I turned and looked up at the door.
“What?” asked Sally when she saw me staring.
“Ice cream bells,” I said pointing.
“So?” she replied.
“Just like home,” I explained, as a wondrous feeling of familiarity tingled all the way down to my toes.
At that moment, I heard a woman’s voice behind us ask, “Can I help you?”
Reluctantly, I turned and found myself facing a woman who kind of looked a little like my mom.
“We’ll have two strawberry ice cream sundaes,” Sally replied, before I could say anything.
“Is that Mazie?” I asked her, as the woman behind the counter began to fill our orders.
“Yep, that’s her,” replied Sally.
That’s when I decided to ask, “Ms. Mazie,” I said to the woman. “Before you start making our sundaes, can I ask you something?”
She turned and replied, “Sure, what?”
“The bells above your door — where did you get them?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“They remind me of the bells on the ice cream truck back home.”
“And where’s that?”
“Philadelphia.”
Mazie nodded and replied, “Actually, they came with the shop. I think the previous owner used to drive an ice cream truck when he was young.”
Just like Henry, the ice cream man back home, I thought, at which point Mazie asked, “So what do you two want on your sundaes?”
After we told her, Sally and I slid into a booth in the corner to wait.
“What’s with you and those bells?” she asked.
“I love the sound of them. They get me all excited whenever I hear them.”
“They do!”
I nodded then asked, “So what gets you all excited, if not ice cream bells?”
She thought a moment. “Harry Potter and the taste of my mother’s home-made coffee.”
“You drink coffee?” I asked surprised.
“Sure, don’t you?”
“Not yet,” I told her. The both of us were about to enter middle school for the first time. “I think I’m still a little too young to be drinking coffee, though I have to admit, my mom’s coffee always smells really good. She makes it using an old-fashioned percolator.”
After we received our sundaes, we dug in, but every time the door to the shop opened, I found myself wanting to turn around. “I wish I had a set of bells like them,” I said to Sally as we were getting close to finishing our sundaes.
“What the heck would you do with ice cream bells?” she asked.
I couldn’t think of a good answer, so I said, “I don’t know, but I think it would be neat to have a set.”
Sally looked at me kind of funny-like. “Are you sure you haven’t been eating too many sundaes lately?”
I could feel my face turning red. “No,” I told her, “it’s just that hearing them kind of makes me wish I was back in Philadelphia waiting for the ice cream truck to arrive.”
“Well, you’re here now, so you better get used to it.” She was right, of course, but I couldn’t help thinking about Philly every time I heard the bells.
The rest of the summer went by pretty fast, and before we knew it, Sally and I were in school. Then came my birthday, which was at the beginning of September. We had Sally and her mother over to help celebrate. They brought me a sweater that had cowboys riding horses on it. Mom and dad also gave me clothes, while Phil, the ranch foreman, gave me a couple of computer games.
It wasn’t until after we finished our slices of cake and ice cream that the UPS truck arrived. Mom went out to see what it had brought. She returned carrying a short narrow box.
“It’s addressed to you,” she said to me.
“Me?” I said out loud. “Who would be sending me something?” Both of my grandparents were gone and I had no aunts.
No one said a word as they watched me slice open the box. What was inside made my eyes bug out. “They’re ice cream bells!” I exclaimed, as a feeling of excitement tingled all the way to my toes. That’s when I noticed Sally and her mother. Both had big grins on their faces.
“We checked with Mazie,” explained her mother. “She told us where we could order a set.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling all warm inside. “Thank you very, very much!”
“You’re welcome,” replied Sally.
“So where do you think we should hang them?” asked mom.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about this,” I told her. “I thought if ever I got bells like these, we should put them somewhere near the front door. That way, whenever I come home from school, I could ring the bells and you would know that I was home.” Mom was an accountant who worked out of our house.
“That’s a good idea,” she said.
Dad added. “I’ll have Phil put them up for you.”
So that’s what we did.
While it was still warm, mom would often share a small bowl of ice cream with me. Later, after it got cold, we’d both have cups of hot chocolate with tiny baby marshmallows.
Like I said, I wasn’t quite ready to drink coffee yet.
The Tinkling Bells(Tom Di Roma)
The Tinkling Bells
Hearing the tinkling bells of the ice cream truck as it rolled through our neighborhood always had me buzzing with excitement. That’s why I was really going to miss hearing those bells once we moved. You see, my parents and I were leaving our Philadelphia neighborhood for a ranch in Colorado. Dad had inherited the ranch from his grandfather and we were going to live there forever. And even though dad had said he was pretty sure there was an ice cream shop somewhere in the nearby town of Westville, for me, it wasn’t going to be the same.
The beginning of the summer was when we moved. As soon as we arrived at the ranch, dad began showing me how to do stuff. Right away I realized I wasn’t cut out to be a “ranch hand,” as they were called. What I really wanted to do was be a page at the local library the same way I had been back home in my school’s library. Even before we left Philly, I found out that Westville had the best library in the whole county. People from all over came to Westville’s library to check out books and movies and do research. Which was why the moment I saw the sign that said Help Wanted, I asked Mrs. Crowley, the head librarian, if I could volunteer to be a page. After giving me a test to see how knowledgeable I was, she said I had the job.
Mostly my duties were to return to the shelves books and videos that had been checked out; but every once in a while, I also got a chance to show movies to the kids. Dad wasn’t exactly thrilled, but said he understood; not everyone was suited to be a ranch hand. Dad was; he had helped his grandfather on the ranch a lot when he was a kid. Now it was his turn to run it.
One of the library’s amenities, as it was called, was a coffee cart, which sold all kinds of coffee and non-coffee drinks, as well as snacks. It was run by a woman who had a daughter named Sally. Sally and I were in the same grade, but since this was the summer, neither of us was in school yet, so Sally volunteered to show me around the town. On a day when I wasn’t putting up books, we rode our bikes into Westville. Sally and her mother lived just down the road from us, while the town itself began less than a mile from the ranch.
“Now that’s Hanson’s Supermarket where we go shopping.” Sally said, pointing to a huge store with shopping carts in front. “And that’s the feed store where all the ranchers get their supplies from. And that’s the store where we buy most of our clothes and—”
“I know all this,” I said to her. “Right now what I want is to check out what kinds of ice creams Mazie’s has.”
Mazie’s was a bright, shiny, old-fashioned diner looking ice cream shop. I saw it the first time mom and I came into town to stock up on groceries. Dad had stayed behind at the ranch to make sure everything continued to run smoothly.
My anticipation as we approached Mazie’s was running high. But what I wasn’t anticipating was what happened as we entered the shop. Sally pushed open the door ahead of me and that’s when I heard them — the sound of the tinkling ice cream bells — just like those on the ice cream truck back home. Immediately, I turned and looked up at the door.
“What?” asked Sally when she saw me staring.
“Ice cream bells,” I said pointing.
“So?” she replied.
“Just like home,” I explained, as a wondrous feeling of familiarity tingled all the way down to my toes.
At that moment, I heard a woman’s voice behind us ask, “Can I help you?”
Reluctantly, I turned and found myself facing a woman who kind of looked a little like my mom.
“We’ll have two strawberry ice cream sundaes,” Sally replied, before I could say anything.
“Is that Mazie?” I asked her, as the woman behind the counter began to fill our orders.
“Yep, that’s her,” replied Sally.
That’s when I decided to ask, “Ms. Mazie,” I said to the woman. “Before you start making our sundaes, can I ask you something?”
She turned and replied, “Sure, what?”
“The bells above your door — where did you get them?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“They remind me of the bells on the ice cream truck back home.”
“And where’s that?”
“Philadelphia.”
Mazie nodded and replied, “Actually, they came with the shop. I think the previous owner used to drive an ice cream truck when he was young.”
Just like Henry, the ice cream man back home, I thought, at which point Mazie asked, “So what do you two want on your sundaes?”
After we told her, Sally and I slid into a booth in the corner to wait.
“What’s with you and those bells?” she asked.
“I love the sound of them. They get me all excited whenever I hear them.”
“They do!”
I nodded then asked, “So what gets you all excited, if not ice cream bells?”
She thought a moment. “Harry Potter and the taste of my mother’s home-made coffee.”
“You drink coffee?” I asked surprised.
“Sure, don’t you?”
“Not yet,” I told her. The both of us were about to enter middle school for the first time. “I think I’m still a little too young to be drinking coffee, though I have to admit, my mom’s coffee always smells really good. She makes it using an old-fashioned percolator.”
After we received our sundaes, we dug in, but every time the door to the shop opened, I found myself wanting to turn around. “I wish I had a set of bells like them,” I said to Sally as we were getting close to finishing our sundaes.
“What the heck would you do with ice cream bells?” she asked.
I couldn’t think of a good answer, so I said, “I don’t know, but I think it would be neat to have a set.”
Sally looked at me kind of funny-like. “Are you sure you haven’t been eating too many sundaes lately?”
I could feel my face turning red. “No,” I told her, “it’s just that hearing them kind of makes me wish I was back in Philadelphia waiting for the ice cream truck to arrive.”
“Well, you’re here now, so you better get used to it.” She was right, of course, but I couldn’t help thinking about Philly every time I heard the bells.
The rest of the summer went by pretty fast, and before we knew it, Sally and I were in school. Then came my birthday, which was at the beginning of September. We had Sally and her mother over to help celebrate. They brought me a sweater that had cowboys riding horses on it. Mom and dad also gave me clothes, while Phil, the ranch foreman, gave me a couple of computer games.
It wasn’t until after we finished our slices of cake and ice cream that the UPS truck arrived. Mom went out to see what it had brought. She returned carrying a short narrow box.
“It’s addressed to you,” she said to me.
“Me?” I said out loud. “Who would be sending me something?” Both of my grandparents were gone and I had no aunts.
No one said a word as they watched me slice open the box. What was inside made my eyes bug out. “They’re ice cream bells!” I exclaimed, as a feeling of excitement tingled all the way to my toes. That’s when I noticed Sally and her mother. Both had big grins on their faces.
“We checked with Mazie,” explained her mother. “She told us where we could order a set.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling all warm inside. “Thank you very, very much!”
“You’re welcome,” replied Sally.
“So where do you think we should hang them?” asked mom.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about this,” I told her. “I thought if ever I got bells like these, we should put them somewhere near the front door. That way, whenever I come home from school, I could ring the bells and you would know that I was home.” Mom was an accountant who worked out of our house.
“That’s a good idea,” she said.
Dad added. “I’ll have Phil put them up for you.”
So that’s what we did.
While it was still warm, mom would often share a small bowl of ice cream with me. Later, after it got cold, we’d both have cups of hot chocolate with tiny baby marshmallows.
Like I said, I wasn’t quite ready to drink coffee yet.
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