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Parents began to stop nagging and realized that they did not

need to be slaves to their children in order to be good parents.

Rudolf Dreikurs

Summer Ice Princess

When I was 10 years old, my father took me aside in his basement sanctuary filled with tools to mold wood and metal, where he spent much of his free time.

“Susan, this summer, I want you to make ice for everyone.”

“But Dad, the new fridge has an automatic ice maker.”

“It won’t make enough ice for everyone,” he said quietly.

With seven people living there for the summer, Dad knew the ice bin would inevitably be empty when he wanted a few cubes for his iced tea.

“Here are the ice cube trays.” He showed me four metal ice trays covered in dust and cobwebs. They were gross, ancient and awkward compared to the majestic automatic icemaker upstairs that effortlessly dispensed ice without spilling a drop of water.

Every, 20 minutes the marvelous machine announced the arrival of three cubes by expelling them with a clatter in the tall bin. However, the machine worked like chickens. It laid cubes only under optimum conditions. Even then, nine cubes an hour couldn’t keep up with demand.

“If you make ice once or twice a day with these trays, it will give us enough ice for the summer,” Dad said. I overlooked the hated trays because I loved my father, wanted his approval, and to contribute to the family.

Dad was a man of few words. He liked to work alone at home and as a research scientist at the DuPont Company. Dad didn’t ask much or say much while he showed quiet dedication to our family. His main goals were to get us to keep down the noise, shut off the lights and use less hot water. The ice project was the first job he ever assigned to me. I felt special. I accepted responsibility to provide surplus ice all summer for the family.