My father had a small business, employing about 15 people at any given time. We pasteurized and homogenized milk from farmers each morning. Then we put the milk into bottles for homes and restaurants. We also put it into small containers for the school kids. And we made a wonderful little thing called homemade ice cream.
　　We sold all of these dairy products, and many more, from a small store in front of the dairy building. From a long counter, we served all kinds of ice-cream treats.
　　During the summer months, rows and of eager tourists lined up at that ice-cream counter. They all came for a taste of my father's exquisite homemade ice cream. Our little store offered customers some 27 flavors to choose from.
　　Because it was an extremely busy little store, the employees had to work very quickly for hours at a time, with little rest. The long lines of tourists never stopped. And on hot days, our "rush hour" lasted for many hours.

The New Employee

　　I had worked for my father since I was young , as did all seven kids in our family. So I had seen many new employees come and go due to the fast and furious pace.
　　One day, in 1976, we had a new employee, Debbie, who wants to work in the store for the summer. She had never done this type of work before, but planned to give it her all.
　　On her first day, Debbie made just about every mistake in the book.
　　She added up the sales wrong on the cash register. She charged the wrong prices for items. She gave the wrong bag of food to the wrong customer. And she dropped and broke a half-gallon of milk.
　　I couldn't stand watching her struggle any longer. I went into my father's office and said, "Please go out there and put her out of her misery."I expected him to walk right into the store and fire her on the spot.

Goodbye, Debbie ?

　　Since my father's office was situated within view of the sales counter, he had no doubt seen what I was talking about. He sat, thoughtful, for a moment. Then he got up from his desk and walked over to Debbie, who was standing behind the counter.
　　"Debbie," he said, as he put his hand gently on her shoulder. "I have been watching you all I saw how you treated Mrs. Forbush."
　　Debbie's face began to flush, and she looked as if she was about to cry.
　　She struggled to remember Mrs. Forbush from the many women she had given the wrong change to or spilled milk on.
　　My father continued, "I've never seen Mrs. Forbush be so polite before. You really knew how to handle her. I am sure she is going to want you to wait on her every time she comes in. Keep up the good work."
　　My father was a wise and compassionate employer. Because of this, Debbie became a loyal and hard-working employee for 16 years---and a friend for life.