The Sounds of Home

The Sounds of Home

Pull up a chair and sit awhile

July 27, 2026

Dear Friend:

I can still hear the jingle every child knew by heart—Mr. Softee.

We didn't get a Mr. Softee ice cream cone every night. That was part of what made it such a special treat. The moment we heard that familiar music drifting through the neighborhood, we'd drop whatever we were doing and race home to ask for a few coins.

I still remember standing in line in front of our house with the neighborhood kids, our money clutched tightly in our hands, waiting patiently for our turn. As the name suggests, the ice cream was creamy soft serve, swirled into a crisp sugar cone.

True to form, I always ordered chocolate.

As dusk settled in, the sound of crickets filled the evening air. It was the perfect soundtrack for chasing lightning bugs.

Sunday mornings brought another familiar sound — the church bells ringing from churches throughout Lancaster City. My family attended the 10:00 Mass, so when we heard the bells for the 8:30 Mass, we knew it was time to start getting dressed. Even then, my dad would still call up the stairs, reminding us girls to stop talking and finish getting ready. I can still remember walking into church as the bells rang for the 10:00 Mass.

Of course, hearing the crack of a baseball bat was simply a way of life in our house. Sometimes it came from the neighborhood playground. Other times it came from the television or the radio as we listened to an Orioles game. But there was something extra special about hearing the crack of the bat while sitting in the stands at a ballpark.

There was one sound my parents weren't particularly fond of—the screen door slamming. With a family our size, it seemed as though someone was always "in and out," as my mother liked to say.

But my favorite sound of all was hearing Mom call us home for lunch or supper.

Looking back, I realize this isn't just about sounds. It's about belonging. Every one of us has a soundtrack of home. We may not hear it every day, but the memories are still there, waiting for a familiar sound to bring them rushing back.

Some of those sounds have faded. The neighborhoods have changed. Many of the voices we loved are now only memories. But every once in a while, I'll hear a familiar jingle, a church bell, or a train whistle in the distance, and for just a moment... I'm home again.

Until next time, stay well, stay safe, and stay connected to those you love.

Be well,

Emma

Emma is the voice behind Sharing with Seniors, where every story starts with a memory. Through stories of family, friendships, music, traditions, hometowns, and life's simple pleasures, she invites readers to pull up a chair, stay awhile, and remember the moments that have shaped their lives.