Ice Cream

Last week I took my children to a restaurant. My six-year old son asked if he could say grace. As we bowed our heads, he said: "God is good. God is great. Thank you for the food, and I would even thank you more if mom gets us ice cream for dessert. And liberty and justice for all. Amen!"

Along with the laughter from the other customers nearby, I heard a woman remark: "That's what's wrong with this country. Kids today don't even know how to pray. Imagine asking God for ice cream! Why, I never!"

Hearing this, my son burst into tears and asked me: "Did I do it wrong? Is God mad at me?"

As I held him and assured him that he had done a terrific job and that God was certainly not mad at him, an elderly gentleman approached the table. He winked at my son, and said: "I happen to know that God thought that was a great prayer." "Really?" myson asked. "Cross my heart," he said, and then in a theatrical whisper he added (as he glanced over at the woman whose remark had started this whole thing), "Too bad she never asks God for ice cream. A little ice cream is good for the soul sometimes."

Naturally, I bought my kids ice cream at the end of the meal. My son stared at his for a moment and then did something I will remember the rest of my life. He picked up his sundae and without a word, walked over and placed it in front of the woman. With a big smile he told her: "Here, this is for you. Ice cream is good for the soul sometimes, and my soul is good already."