By Regena Handy

City kids had the ice cream truck. Rural kids like us haunted the mailbox on a daily basis looking for our summer treat.

I haven’t eaten a Mallo Cup candy bar in years. However, when we were young, that marshmallow and chocolate delight was our sweet of choice.  Not only was it a delicious indulgence, but each package included a little bonus — a cardboard coin or money.

All year long as we ate the rare candy bar allowed us, we would safe guard those little pieces of cardboard. In early summer, we counted the coins which ranged from a penny to a dollar.  If we had collected enough for the offered reward — I’m thinking it had to be ten dollars worth — we would tape them onto sheets of paper and mail them off to the candy company, carefully addressing the envelope in our best penmanship.

And the wait began.

Every day we would race to the mailbox, wanting to be the one to retrieve our much anticipated prize. Sometimes my mother made us take turns since my brother was older and stronger and could run faster, and thus always won (a fact that I as the only girl probably whined about incessantly).

Occasionally we would be waiting at the mailbox for the driver when he arrived. He quickly came to realize that we were expecting something special and would even apologize kindly — ‘’I’m sorry, kids, not today”.

I don’t recall how long it took for the candy company to respond, possibly not more than a couple of weeks. Of course, it seemed like a year to us.

Finally, finally, it arrived one day. A little box about five inches square. We  raced to the house and all gathered around as the package was opened. Even my mother would join in, taking pleasure in our enjoyment.

Now, I need to pause at this point in the story in recognition that there are people not familiar with this riveting ritual. And I can’t help but speculate what they are expecting this grand prize to be, considering the excitement of its recipients. For those who don’t know, it may provide an unbelieving chuckle.

For when we opened the box and spilled its contents on the kitchen table, we were just as thrilled as could be. Our anxiously awaited treasure — a carton of Mallo Cup candy bars!

Since then I have wondered on occasion just how those candy bars survived the summer heat. I accidentally left a Hershey’s Kiss in the car the other day and it was just a puddle of chocolate when I found it. I think we usually popped the box of Mallo Cup candy into the refrigerator when it arrived but that was more that we liked them slightly chilled than that they were melted.

Maybe I should urge my son and daughter-in-law not to share this copy of  The Enterprise with the grandson when it arrives in the mail. While he might enjoy the story, he might also think his grandmother a hypocrite, especially since I caution him against eating sweets.

Oh, well, what’s summer without a little treat.