Sometimes, we all need some ice cream.

My six-year-old grand-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 Nana gets us ice cream for dessert. And liberty and justice for all! Amen!” 

Along with the quiet laughter from the other customers nearby, I heard a woman remark loudly, “That’s what’s wrong with this country.  Kids today don’t even know how to pray.  Asking God for ice cream! Why, I never!” 

Hearing this, my grand-son burst into tears and asked me, “Did I do it wrong grandma? Is God mad at me?” 

As I held him and assured him that he had done a terrific job, and God was certainly not mad at him, an elderly gentleman approached the table. 

He winked at my grand-son and said, “I happen to know that God thought that was a truly great prayer.” 

“Really?” my grand-son asked.  

“Cross my heart,” the man replied. 

Then, in a theatrical whisper, he added (indicating 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 grand-children ice cream at  the end of the meal.  My grand-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.”