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The key to childhood tale

Ice cream is my sweet prize. I buy them when I want to reward myself: for a job well done, for a sunny day, and sometimes for sad thoughts – to have fun. Why? Because I rarely eat something sweet. 

And strangely enough – even though I have long been a child, the sweetness of childhood has remained. I find myself back there for a short time: by the sea with my mom or my friends after school or standing in the middle of a sandy country road and waiting for my dad to come right out of the corner – he is coming back out of town with ice cream and we will eat them sitting under the trees, and the August whispers above our heads.

I know it’s a fairy tale; in reality, childhood doesn’t come back. But does it matter if, when I close my eyes, I can see a greater sky than with my eyes open, to believe that everything will be fine?

Today I eat ice cream for a good job – I finished one more job and at least one person’s life becomes easier.

I sit turning my face to the summer. A warm breeze sweeps through the open terrace into the heart. The key to my childhood tale is in my hand.

© Fortune, 2009

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