Children's Story: The Ice Cream Cone

The Ice Cream Cone

(Teaching Children About Divorce)

by CJ Heck

Millicent Cole was Jake's wife, Kali and Kristin's mother, and grandmother to Douglas, the eight-year-old son of her oldest daughter, Kali.

Kali was also the daughter who told everyone tonight at supper that she and her husband are getting a divorce.

It was news that rocked Millie's comfortable world for the second time that week.

Now, sitting in the front row on a wooden folding chair, Millie's eyes focused on what first rocked her world, the  rosewood coffin surrounded by flowers at the front of the room.

She was there to say a final goodbye to her beloved grandfather who passed away only two days before.  Already she missed him terribly.

Add that to the bomb Kali dropped tonight about the divorce and it was fair to say, Millicent Kathryn Cole was feeling very, very vulnerable, like free-falling from the sky without a parachute.

Her thoughts wandered to a summer long ago, when she was about Douglas's age. It was the summer she was given the most precious gift she had ever received.

The gift was so dear to her, and yet it hadn't come folded in soft tissue paper in a fancy cardboard box. It had not been wrapped in colorful paper, pretty ribbons, or bows, nor had it come with a store-bought greeting card. It had been such a simple, loving gift and it had come from Grampa ...

Millie had just turned eight when her best friend, Kylie, tearfully told her that her parents were getting a divorce. Her friend was miserable and Millie didn't know what to do, or say, to comfort her. She couldn't understand why Kylie's parents would get a divorce -- and Millie was about half mad at them for hurting Kylie that way.

Millie rode the school bus home in silence.

When the driver finally opened the bus door in front of her house, Grandpa was there waiting for her on the wooden bench. She was glad to see him. Maybe Grampa could help her understand how this awful thing could happen to her best friend.

Grampa gave Millie a big hug. "Hello, Millie-Me!" [That was Grampa's special nickname for her].

Millie told him she was sad. Then she told him about her talk with Kylie and now she felt so helpless. "Why would her parents do that and hurt Kylie? I don't understand." Millie said in a voice choked with tears.

Grampa got down on one knee and hugged her again. Then he suggested they walk down to the park. Grampa spoke in a gentle voice, "I think it's time for an ice cream cone."

After Grampa paid the vendor for their cones, they walked down the little winding path through the park, under the thick canopy of trees, past an old woman feeding pigeons, until at last they came to an empty bench.

After they sat for awhile, Grampa pointed to her cone and said, “You know, honey, falling in love and getting married are a lot like your ice cream cone. You got one scoop and took a lick. Well, it tasted so good, you asked for another scoop right on the tippity-top of that one."

Millie was too busy licking the little drips that were starting to run down the sides of her cone to say anything, so she just nodded her head.

After a few more minutes, Grampa pointed up to the sky. "Today sure is hot. Yep. There isn't a cloud in the sky. The sun’s shining down on you, and it’s shining down on your ice cream cone, too. It sure looks like you’re enjoying it. In spite of all the drips running down your fingers onto your hands, it must be pretty darn good."

Grampa paused, and then he said, "The faster your ice cream melts, the faster you’re licking to catch all of the drips."

Millie nodded again in frustration. It was true. The drips were coming much faster now. Her tongue was having trouble keeping up with them all around the cone.

Grampa saw Millie nod, so he went on. "Do you see those flies and gnats buzzing around? They’ve been watching you enjoy your cone. Understand, they want some of that great ice cream, too!

They’ve started dive-bombing from all sorts of different angles and grabbing little bites all for themselves. With the hand that isn’t holding your ice cream cone, I've been watching you swiping and swatting like crazy to keep the bugs away."

Now Millie giggled. Grampa was making the bugs sound like real people who wanted her to share her cone with them!

Grampa giggled, too, and then he continued. "Now, what if Old Blue was here?

Let's say that old hound dog is sound asleep in the shade over there. Suddenly, he wakes up and sees the drips you’re leaving on the sidewalk down there by your feet. He would probably lumber on over here and lap up a few of those drips. He might even like them so much he'd try and take a few bites right from the cone in your hand!"

Millie thought about the melting ice cream and all the bugs. "I'm sure glad Old Blue's not here, too, Grampa! There's not enough ice cream on this cone for all of us!" She said in a loud voice.

"Well, there you are, honey. You'd be swiping at the bugs with one hand, pushing Old Blue away with your elbows, and meanwhile, the sun would still be melting the ice cream faster than your tongue can lick to keep up with it."

The bugs were being so pesky now that Millie was getting angry. She got up from the bench and tried to run away from them, when all of a sudden --

"P L O P!“

Millie frowned. She looked down at the pile of mushy ice cream and the sugar cone that had landed upside-down on the ground between her feet.

Slowly and sadly, Millie walked back over to the bench and sat down beside Grampa.

She sighed, and after taking one last peek at her ice cream mess on the ground, she asked, “Grampa, why do bad things have to happen to good people?”

“Sweet girl, there is no particular reason.  Sometimes they just do.

You know, getting married can be just like your ice cream cone. It was exactly what you wanted, when you wanted it, and it was wonderful, too.  The love part truly is wonderful.

Sometimes, though, there are just too many inside and outside things that get in the way. Each of those things is taking big bites, little bites, pushing, pulling and shoving, until they've melted down all of the really good parts."

Millie thought about her grampa's words. Getting married sure sounded like a lot of work -- and a whole LOT of problems. Millie made up her mind. “Grampa, I don't EVER want to get married!”

“Millie-Me, that ice cream cone sure was good ... wasn't it?"

"It was the best, Grampa, but it's all gone now!"  Millie sniffled.  "And it was my fault."

"Yes, it finally dropped on the sidewalk, but we both know you worked real hard to keep it, and I'm proud of you. I hope you'll always remember, that while you had it, it was good -- it was really, really good. Wasn't having it worth all the work in trying to keep it?

It doesn't have to be anyone's fault.  Sometimes, what finally happened to your ice cream cone just happens, and in real life, that can happen with a couple's marriage.”

Millie nodded.  She finally understood.

She gave Grampa the biggest hug she could muster and he hugged her right back. "Yeah, Grampa. It was worth all the work. Thank you."

Grampa smiled and kissed the top of her head. "You're welcome. C'mon Millie-Me. Let's go home."

The organ music jolted her back to the present, but Millicent Cole smiled -- not a big smile, mind you, but a smile, just the same.

It was such a perfect memory, and I'll always treasure it. Oh Grampa, you will be so terribly missed ...

"Hi, Gram." Millicent was surprised right out of her daydream. She looked up to see Douglas's tear-stained face as he plopped down in the chair beside her.

"This is a double-dang, triple-dang BAD day, Gram. First Great-Grampa died, then Mom and Dad said they are getting a divorce. Why, Gram?  I don't understand why they are doing that."

"I know, Dougie, I know." Millie said sadly, as she wiped at a tear escaping down his cheek. Then she hugged him. "Let's go see your mother. I think it's time you and I walked down to the park for an ice cream cone."

Then, after wiping a misbehaving tear of her own with a tissue, Millie added, "Dougie, let's go make a memory ..."



“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck

Children's Story: "Mommy, What's Abuse?"

Jeffie

by CJ Heck

When Hannah Hobbes got home from school, she looked for Mommy. Mommy was putting clean dishes away in the kitchen cupboard, so Hannah plopped herself into one of the four chairs at the round oak table. "Hi Mommy. I'm home."

Claira Hobbes stopped what she was doing. She looked over at her pretty six-year-old daughter. Hannah was usually a bright and bubbly little girl -- almost always wearing a cheerful smile which brought the cutest two dimples right along with it.

Today, Claira could see right away that there was something wrong. "Hello Hannah-Banana. Everything okay today at school?"

With all that had happened today, Hannah couldn't help herself. She started to cry. Her jumbled words all came out at once. "I was talking to Janie at school today. Mommy, Janie was so sad and it made me feel sad, too. She's staying with her grandma and grampa because her mommy is in the hospital.

Oh, Mommy! Janie said policemen came and took her daddy to jail! When the policemen took her to her grandma's house, she heard them whispering the word 'abuse'.”

Hannah stopped talking and took a deep breath. She was feeling just awful and the tears kept making little rivers down her cheeks. To make things worse, her nose was crying, too, and she swiped at it with her sleeve.

Claira sat down in the chair next to Hannah at the table and handed her a tissue. Then slowly, she patted her lap. Hannah saw and climbed up on mommy's lap. She really needed one of those special mommy-hugs right now.

Feeling safe inside the hug, Hannah asked, "Mommy, what's abuse?"

Claira gave her a gentle squeeze and laid her cheek on her daughter's soft brown hair. "Well, honey, abuse is a very bad thing. That's when someone who is bigger, or stronger, or older, hurts someone else. It can be words that hurt, or actions that hurt. Sometimes it's someone they love, and that makes it hurt even more."

Hannah might have felt safe, but she also felt confused. She didn't understand, and the tears kept coming. "Janie's very upset. She told me her mommy and daddy might get a divorce. I've been over there lots of times. Her daddy and mommy act happy. Don't they love each other any more?"

Claira thought for a moment. This was a grown-up situation and she wished it hadn't touched Hannah‘s life, but it had. She had to find a way to explain this. "Hannah, people can love each other and still not be good for each other. Do you understand?"

Hannah sniffled and shook her head in a great big ‘NO‘. "This is too hard. I don't understand! Janie said they get angry and shout a lot. She said sometimes her daddy hurts her mommy, but then he's always sorry. Then things are okay again. Janie says they're happy and she doesn't want them to get a divorce."

"I know, sweet girl. I’m sure Janie doesn’t want them to get a divorce. Please listen to me, honey. Hurting someone you love is always wrong. Janie has lived with it all of her life. To Janie, that is what seems normal, but only because she doesn't have anything else to compare it with."

Claira saw Hannah was hurting inside. She just had to find some way to help her understand. Then she spotted Hannah's dog, Jeffie, all curled up in a ball and fast asleep on the rag rug by the kitchen sink. Claira's breath caught in her throat. She suddenly knew how to make it easier for Hannah to understand.

"Hannah, let‘s talk about Jeffie. We've had Jeffie for a long time, even longer than we've had you. You really love that old dog, don‘t you?"

Hannah sniffled, but she couldn't help but smile, too. Jeffie was a great dog! He was her best friend in the whole world. She told him all of her secrets -- and she knew his secrets, too. He didn't like broccoli or spinach either, and he really wasn't too happy when she gave him her spaghetti, but ...

Mommy interrupted her thoughts by asking, "Hannah, how would you feel if you came home from school one day and Jeffie didn’t run up to you and lick your face, wagging his tail and his whole body right along with it? What if Jeffie showed his teeth and growled at you?"

Hannah stopped crying just long enough to giggle a little at the silliness. "Mommy, Jeffie loves me. He would never do that." Hannah tried to sniff her nose tears back inside and Claira handed her another clean tissue from the green box on the table.

Claira went on to ask, "But what if he did bare his teeth and growl at you? What do you think you would you do?"

Hannah‘s big blue eyes looked up at the ceiling. Why is Mommy asking such silly things about Jeffie? "Mommy, If he did THAT, I would tell him to stop!"

Claira paused, thinking about Hannah‘s answer. Now she knew what to ask next. "And what if that didn't work, Hannah? What if Jeffie growled some more, maybe even louder? What if he even tried to bite you?"

Hannah couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Then I would yell at him. I would yell at him and say JEFFIE, NO! STOP!"

This was working, Claira thought to herself. Then she asked, "Okay. But what if it only made him madder and he DID bite you?"

Hannah answered, "Then I would want to hurt him for biting me, but I know you're not supposed to do that. We would probably have daddy put him in a cage so he couldn't bite any more. Or maybe, we could take him to a place where people teach dogs that biting is bad."

Claira smiled to herself. Yes! This was working. "Excellent answer, Hannah. How long do you think that would take?"

Hannah thought for a minute, her mouth squinching to one side and then the other in deep concentration. "Well, until he stopped biting, I guess."

Then Claira took it a step further. "What if he decided not to stop biting? What if Jeffie hurt you very badly? What if he hurt you so bad that you had to go to the hospital?"

"I don't know, Mommy. I don't know!” Hannah's voice rose louder. “I don't want to think about that! He would stop biting. I love Jeffie and he loves me, too. I know he would stop. I know he would."

The thought that Jeffie would ever hurt her brought fresh tears to Hannah’s eyes and she mopped at them with her already damp tissue, trying to catch them as they slid down her cheeks.

Claira gave Hannah another hug, then handed her a fresh tissue. "Yes, Hannah. Jeffie could learn to stop biting, but he would have to be willing to learn how very wrong it is to hurt someone you love."

Suddenly Hannah’s eyes opened wide. She understood what Mommy was trying to say. It was all making sense to her now. Mommy was showing her that what happened with Janie's daddy was just like the story about Jeffie. "Mommy? When Janie's daddy hurt her mommy, the jail is like Jeffie's cage, right?"

"That's right, Hannah," Claira answered, giving Hannah a gentle squeeze.

"And Mommy, Janie’s daddy really could go somewhere and learn how not to do that any more, right?"

"Right again, Hannah."

Hannah quietly nodded her head in understanding. Then Hannah sighed. "Well, I hope he decides to learn. Then he won't have to be in jail and he could go home again. Then they wouldn't have to get a divorce. I don't want Janie to live like that. Janie's my friend and I want her to be happy."

Claira smiled, feeling proud of her six year-old. She wiped the last of Hannah's tears off with her apron. "I love you, little Hannah-Banana," she said with another mommy-hug. "You're a very smart little girl."

"I love you, too, Mommy," and with a smile in return, Hannah wiped her nose with her sleeve and hopped down to go wake Jeffie from his nap.

“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck