Elora’s Letter, Mr. Felix’s Story –  A Short Story

by Rebekah Scott

        They came on the same exact day, every single year. I came to expect them and became quite fond of them. The boy and his younger sister had a special sibling relationship that was rare these days, and I enjoyed watching them interact. They were always friendly, and they made sure to remember my name. Little did they know how much they truly affected me.

      Every year, for four years, I made it a point to work that day. I was always certain to give them special attention and extra time when I took their order and scooped their ice cream. That day soon became one of my favorite days of the entire year.

     The boy’s name was Aaron. The girl’s was Elora. He was friendly and talkative; she was quiet, yet sweet. The very first time they came in while I was working, I mistook them for a teenage couple out on a date. Elora had blushed, embarrassed, and her older brother had laughed aloud. Aaron had then proceeded to explain that Elora was his sister, and, after apologizing profusely, I introduced myself and took their order. 

     The next year, I happened to be working on the very same day. When the two siblings walked in, I was somewhat surprised, because I had not seen them since the year before. But I hadn’t forgotten them, and they hadn't forgotten me. I greeted them and inquired about why it had been so long since I’d last seen them. Aaron had explained to me that they lived far away, and they were only able to come here once a year on Elora’s birthday.  

      The next year, when the very same month rolled around, I made sure to be working at the ice cream parlor that day. When Aaron and Elora came in that evening, I recognized them right away, despite the fact that they had grown taller and more mature.

     Both Aaron and Elora greeted me, and told me what they wanted. Next, they paid me. Or rather, they tried. But I wouldn't accept the money. “It’s on the house.” I told them. “For your birthday.” I said to Elora.

     “You don’t need to do that.” Aaron argued. 

     “I want to. Let it be my birthday treat.”

     “Are you sure? Because-”

     “Aaron… I want to. Please let me do this for you.”

     Aaron hesitantly agreed. “Thank you,” he told me as I handed both him and Elora their ice cream.

     As the two siblings began to walk over to a table to sit down, I quickly stepped out from behind the counter and gently grasped Aaron’s shoulder. He turned around, and I spoke. “Use the money for a surprise for your sister.” I whispered softly. 

     Nodding, he smiled, said, “Thank you, Mr. Felix.” and joined his sister at the table. Going back behind the counter, I stood, contentedly observing the brother and sister’s mirthful interactions.

     Soon after, I got a new job. A better job, and I was excited to finally be doing what I loved. But I still worked occasionally at the ice cream parlor, and I enjoyed it as much as always. And, once again, when that same month came around, I ensured that I was there on Elora’s birthday. I waited all day, excited. I had even bought a birthday card for her. 

     Morning came and went. The afternoon dragged by. Finally, the long-awaited evening arrived. When they walked in, I was serving another customer. I didn't even notice them. Aaron walked up to the counter, with a seemingly unfamiliar girl trailing behind him. It took me a moment to recognize Elora. She now wore a bandana on her head, and, when she looked up, I nearly gasped, because her face was peaked and pale. She looked almost nothing like she had the year before.

      Swallowing my shock, I greeted them cheerfully, like always, hiding away my concerns and worries for Elora. Taking their order and serving them their ice cream, I chatted with them in a friendly manner, but still could not bring myself to ask about Elora. Once again, when Aaron tried to pay me for the ice cream, I opened my mouth to refuse. Immediately, he held his hand up and exclaimed, “This time, I’m paying for it. And I won’t take no for an answer.” So, I reluctantly agreed and took the money. 

      As they sat and enjoyed their ice cream, I watched them from behind the counter. In spite of the outward changes I’d noticed in the two siblings, they still seemed the same, talking and laughing, despite whatever challenges they were experiencing in their lives. When they were finished, I talked with them both and we said our goodbyes. But, this time, I did something unexpected. Even I myself didn't expect it. I gave Elora a hug.

     She was more than a little surprised, yet she gave me a shy smile. Aaron, too, was astonished, but he offered me a grateful smile and then pulled me into a hug too. Saying goodbye once again, they left the ice cream parlor, leaving me alone, yet happy and satisfied.

    The very next year, I was once again working there again on Elora’s birthday. But it was my last day, as I had made the difficult decision to start working full-time at my other job. And, that evening, I waited impatiently for Aaron and Elora, eager to see them again. I was returning to the counter after grabbing a new container of ice cream, when a familiar voice called my name.

    Quickly, I set down the ice cream, and turned around, only to be met with a surprising and confusing sight. It was Aaron. Only Aaron. Elora wasn't with him. I met his eyes, and his pain-filled, grief-stricken gaze shook me. Somehow, I instantly knew what had happened and enveloped him in a comforting hug. For a few moments, we stayed like that, Aaron’s head resting on my shoulder, muffling his suppressed sobs.

    When Aaron gently pulled away, I patted his shoulder sympathetically. “Thank you.” he smiled sadly.  I nodded, returning his smile. “I have something for you,” he said. “From Elora.” When I opened my mouth, he held up his hand, stopping me from asking any questions and spoke again. “ I have to go.” He pulled me into a brief hug and handed me an envelope. “Goodbye.” he said. 

    “Goodbye.” I replied, as he opened the door of the ice cream parlor and left for the very last time.

    When I got home that evening, I pulled the envelope out of my pocket, sat down, and opened it. Taking out the paper inside, I unfolded it and began to read. 

Dear Mr. Felix, 

    I asked Aaron to give you this letter the next time he saw you. When he told me that he wouldn't be seeing you anytime soon, I told him to go back to the ice cream parlor on my birthday, even though I wouldn't be with him. He finally agreed and I made him promise me that he would. So, if you’re reading this letter right now, that means Aaron followed through on his promise. Tell him thank you for me. Tell him I’m proud of him.

    I know you're wondering why I chose to write you a letter, so I’ll get right to the point. I just wanted to thank you. You’ve helped me a lot— both me and my brother, and I really appreciate it. Even when things were changing in our lives and we were experiencing challenges, you stayed the same. And that’s all we needed. 

    You were always very friendly and kind to us when we came to get ice cream, and you were a very special part of my birthday. And even after I got diagnosed with cancer, you stayed the same.You didn't ask about me or treat me any differently than before, and that was just what I needed. You helped me to enjoy my last birthday, without any worries about the future, and I thank you for that. And when it was time to go, and you gave me a hug… I needed that.  

    So, Mr. Felix, I just wanted to thank you, because even though it doesn't seem like you did much for my brother and I, you did. You did a great deal more for us than most other people, and it meant a lot to us. What you did for us may not seem like much, but it’s often the little things that count the most. 

    So, thank you again, Mr. Felix. You were a great friend to us in our time of need.

                           Thank You!

                            With love, 

                                     Elora Brown

    Tears ran down my face, dripping onto the letter. I tried to suppress them, but they kept coming, flowing down my cheeks and plopping onto the precious paper in fat droplets. My thoughts flickered back to the time, three years ago, when I watched as Elora somehow managed to drop ice cream in her brother’s hair, their laughter echoing throughout the room. Or when I handed her my birthday card, and the smile that lit her face as she read it. 

     These memories brought on a new onslaught of tears, torrential waves that refused to calm, as I recalled the last time I had seen Elora… The unexpected hug that we’d shared before they’d left… and I missed her… but now, I’d never see her again. 

     After quite some time, my tears subsided and I sat silently, still clutching Elora’s letter. Elora was right. I felt like all my thoughtful deeds were small and unimportant. But her words had opened my eyes. She’d shown me that what I’d really done, though seemingly insignificant, was truly meaningful. Elora had shown me that it’s little things that matter the most.