03/26/2026
I ran to the car knowing I had $10 stashed away even though I had already said we weren’t getting treats until vacation but it was just one of those nights where it was too perfect to say no: 
The sun was setting just right, that kind where the m golden light and cotton candy colors  makes everything feel slower and softer….. like you can stretch the moment a little longer than you’re supposed to.
My two-year-old was riding his bike up and down the sidewalk steady in that wobbly determined way, with my husband right behind him close enough to catch him if he fell but far enough to let him feel like he was doing it on his own.
It was one of those over 90°  California days where you can’t tell if it’s spring or summer, just that it’s hot long after the sun goes down, and somehow you end up at the park past bedtime hoping the ice cream truck is still there like it’s part of the plan.
I was hurrying back across the parking lot with my $10 bill in hand when I noticed the ice cream man was out of the truck now and standing next to my daughter as they looked over the menu together. They were laughing like they had known each other way longer than just that moment and I smiled approaching knowing that my daughter has a way of doing that with people, no matter where she goes.
“I have $10 kid get something that this will cover you and your brother” I said, and before she could even turn toward me he said “oh please don’t worry about that. I can adjust the prices if needed.”
I told him how sweet that was but that it would be no problem and ordered her shaved ice and a little ice cream for the little man.
He was busy making our treats when some other families started approaching his truck trying to decide if they wanted something too and the second my daughters mouth opened, I could feel the corners of my lips curl once again into that Sam smile from earlier
“You should come and see he has such great prices and it’s fresh and so good!!” My heart was smiling as I looked up and saw him looking out the window her shaved ice in hand shocked.
Just watching her stand there so proud in front of his ice cream truck.
When he handed us our treats he handed me an extra stack of napkins while out of the corner of his eyes at my toddler, I giggled a little knowing the stack was for him and he smiled real big and said, “that girl of yours that you’re raising….she will change this world somehow….. if she hasn’t already. I feel that from her. Very strongly.”
He was now looking at her trying to convince her baby brother to take a lick of the ice cream,l as if he was being taken back to some far away time  without realizing he had done the same for me .
I smiled said ‘you’ve got that right’, hiding the tears in my eyes as I told him to keep the $2 change and as I walked away back towards my family I couldn’t help but swallow a million tears knowing thirteen years ago that same girl wasn’t standing in front of an ice cream truck making strangers feel something they couldn’t even explain…
she was fighting for adults to simply care enough to try and save her since she was born with a 1 in 6 billion form of cancer that had no known living survivors. 
And now she’s here.
Not just here… but walking through the world in a way that makes people stop because they feel her, and notice her… without ever knowing why.
And I think that’s the part that will always undo me…
that the girl I once prayed would just stay alive… grew into someone the world can feel.
long live souls like the ice cream man… who notice it.
