While growing up on Smith Hill in Providence, Rhode Island, I had a lot to look forward to by the standards of a young elementary school boy. I followed my older cousins where ever they went through the neighborhood, usually the park. Around the corner from the street I lived on was Camden Park where my cousins and I spent hours during the summer and after school. Up the street from this park was a stand called New England Frozen Lemonade. Making the trip around the block to this lemonade stand was among some of the highlights of my life. Like many other kids, as a little boy I had a sweet tooth. Drinking Lemonade was simply the greatest sensation for me. On sunny warm summer days, outside was the ideal place to be. While the feeling of dehydration lingered among the heat of a humid atmosphere, there was nothing more refreshing than a sweet cup of ice cold lemonade. If I asked my mom or one of my aunts to have some money to go get something to drink and either of whom said yes, my friends and I were off to go get some lemonade. I personally preferred watermelon flavor because it was not so sour. My favorite quality of lemonade had to be its smooth texture of the fine bits of ice that would melt in your mouth. Since I did not have to pay for it, I was carefree. In those days, the only problems I had were figuring out what should I do next to occupy myself. If I had gone to get lemonade, I would be satisfied for a couple of days until I got thirsty for some more.
Now a days if I visit the same lemonade stand it would be a little bit different. I moved out of Smith Hill several years ago but returned recently. I am finding my self far more busier than I was in my earlier stages of youth and am not roaming the streets at all. Everyone I hung out with in the neighborhood had moved so I would be making the trip to get lemonade alone. The man I knew that worked the stand must have retired too because I no longer see