A Magical Butterscotch Summer

Every so often, a favorite childhood memory comes to mind. I was about 4 years old and it was a summer I’ll never forget. Everyday I would go outside to play in the front yard. I would make mud pies, collect sticks or see how many ants I could count (and maybe step on). Then one day, out of the blue, my favorite candy began to fall from the sky. Butterscotch hard candies to be exact.

I couldn’t believe it. How was this possible!?! I looked around but there was no one outside but me. They must have come from the sky! But how? Why? How did it just happen to be my favorite candy? Did God decide to grant me this awesome miracle? Was there a Butterscotch Fairy? I went inside to tell my sister what happened (but not before opening one and popping it in my mouth). But she didn’t believe me. I didn’t care. I knew what happened and no one could tell me otherwise.

Everyday after that, the same thing happened. I’d go outside and within minutes, more butterscotch candies rained down from heaven. I was on cloud nine that summer. I looked forward to this time of day like nothing else.

This went on for what felt like weeks. It could have been several days in actuality. I was 4…I had no real sense of time. All I knew is I never wanted it to stop. My family continued to doubt my story as I accumulated my beloved candy.

I even stopped caring about playing. It just became a daily wait for this crazy, special time of my day. Until one afternoon, when I looked up and saw a flash in the upstairs window. What was that? Who was that? Did I just see candy fall from that window? My young mind didn’t want to let me dwell on what I just saw. But now there was doubt. Maybe my candy fairy didn’t exist after all. Maybe it was someone from my family playing a trick on me.

The next day, I waited again. This time, I looked to the window that seemed to hold the key to this mystery. I suddenly saw what looked like my sister’s hand dropping butterscotch candy to the ground below. My heart sunk. I was devastated. There was no fairy. And it certainly wasn’t God. It was my sister.

I opened a piece and placed it in my mouth. It didn’t taste quite as delicious this time. I slowly walked in the house and told my sister that I saw the candy coming from the window. She insisted she was no where near the window or upstairs and that I was imagining things. But I knew what I saw. I asked my mother if it was her and she knew nothing of it. A small part of me hoped that maybe I was mistaken. Please, let me be wrong.

The following day, I went outside. I looked toward the window and waited. Nothing. I looked toward the sky and waited. Still nothing. Not one butterscotch candy fell again after that day. I finally got my sister to admit that she indeed was the candy fairy. I asked her why she did it. She just shrugged and said because she knew I liked them and it would be cool to see my reaction.

I was so bummed that I had no taste for my favorite candy for weeks after that. I was annoyed with my sister. And I felt silly for believing in magic. I eventually realized that although my sister didn’t admit it at the time, she was actually being nice and just wanted to give me a daily thrill. And it was a special, magical time of innocence and naivety that I still remember with much fondness to this day.

The first time my daughter told me she couldn’t wait to grow up, I told her to slow down. Hold on to her childhood as long as she could. I reminisced about the Summer of Butterscotch and told her life would never be as magical as it was right now for her. Pretty soon magic will be replaced by bills and responsibility and…life. Play time will have to be saved for evenings and weekends. And nothing is quite as fun as believing in the impossible.

Funny enough, I still wish I had never found out the real truth behind the butterscotch mystery. I know I would have eventually figured it out, but I would have liked to have been in the dark and enjoyed it a little bit longer.

I would love to go back in time and experience life as that innocent, carefree little girl again. The girl who loved The Smurfs, butterscotch and a nightly dose of Nesquick Chocolate Milk (sometimes strawberry). The girl who was still gullible enough to believe that magical things could actually happen to me. I love my life with all its complexities now, so I wouldn’t want to stay. But I sure wouldn’t mind visiting…if only for a moment.

Featured Image by Liber the poet