Raspados, also known as shaved ice, remind me of my childhood. The “raspado man” waited every day outside of my elementary school to sell his delicious frozen treats! I remember waiting for the raspado to melt, so that I could drink the juice it created. I handed him my four quarters, and in exchange he handed me happiness. The vanilla and lechera flavor raspado hugged my tongue perfectly, and every single spoonful fulfilled a sense of emptiness. It created a memory that makes me smile. The simple snack brings me joy. Anytime I see vendors selling raspados I buy one. I feel like a kid again. Drinking up all the juice and being left with flavorless ice. I feel happy. No worries, except for spreading the lechera evenly around the ice. Now that I am older I realize that every single one of my purchases mattered, we depended on each other’s happiness.