“I see you have been behaving yourself this winter,” said Mr. Iceman’s neighbour, Warren. “You haven’t been making any ice in places you aren’t supposed to.”
“No,” said Mr. Iceman in a glum voice. “I haven’t felt like it.”
“What?” asked Warren, surprised. “That isn’t like you. Are you okay?”
Warren was concerned for Mr. Iceman. Mr. Iceman thrived in the winter time. He was always happy and full of life. He was never glum.
“I think I am depressed,” said Mr. Iceman.
Warren was going to make a joke and laugh about what Mr. Iceman had just told him but then he thought of some of the articles he had seen on the internet about depression. He was glad he didn’t make a joke about it.
“Depression is a very serious issue,” said Warren. “Is there something in particular that is making you feel depressed?”
“I got to thinking about the ice I make,” said Mr. Iceman. “What if someone seriously hurts themselves? I would feel really bad about it.”
“I do understand your concern,” said Warren. “And, you do have a valid reason to be concerned about that. However, your ability to make ice and the quality of the ice you do make is a gift but it is only a gift if it is used correctly.”
“Are you saying I should continue to make ice?” asked Mr. Iceman, confused. “You are usually the one that tells me not to make it.”
“I tell you not to make it in places where it would be dangerous,” said Warren. “But making your ice at the arena or in parks where there is a skating rink, that is perfectly acceptable.”
“You know something,” said Mr. Iceman. “I do feel better now after talking to you. I think I will go to the park and make some ice.”
“Wise choice,” said Warren.
Moral of this Story: