The Ice Cream Allegory

Consider your relationship with an ice cream sundae.

Today is the day. The great crowd stands before the Master of the Creamery, waiting for him to speak.

He speaks to them. He tells them they are each to receive a bowl of ice cream. It is theirs to keep if they choose. But then he delivers one cryptic piece of advice: wait to eat it until the end of the day.

Vanilla. The apotheosis of ice cream flavors. Innumerable bowls rest tantalizingly in the hands of countless individuals. The same white, creamy substance occupies each vessel.

Subir, an unremarkable person in every way, retreats to an empty table. He sits down, places the bowl on the surface, and folds his arms, staring at the ice cream. It appears delicious to him, but he remembers the words of the Master and is determined to heed them.

Most of the crowd acts likewise. A few, thinking to wait would be foolish, indulge themselves immediately. As soon as they resolve to consume the ice cream, spoons appear instantly in their hands. Means is not an obstacle.

The morning comes and goes. Subir watches as his ice cream begins to melt just as he begins to feel that a marvelous opportunity is slipping past him. With each passing moment, the satisfaction he might derive from that bowl becomes more impossible. Yet he must not yield. The Master’s wisdom exceeds his own.

Many have now extinguished their patience. By early afternoon, those who have not yet partaken of their ice cream constitute the minority. Some who have given in are mocking those who have not. What good is there in waiting? they ask. By the day’s end, there will be nothing left to enjoy.

Subir’s doubts increase. Those who did not wait appear quite happier than him. The afternoon wanes and the evening sets in, and one by one, his fellow abstainers decide to salvage what remains of their ice cream. For by this point, all that remains of Subir’s ice cream is perhaps a single scoop, floating imploringly amidst a sweet lake of lost potential. But still, he must resist. He knows not why the Master has advised him so or how it could possibly play to his benefit, but surely it would.

The persecutions multiply upon Subir as the night descends, and he remains the lone individual who has not yielded to his desires. They laugh at him; they scorn him; they even tempt him by drizzling the all-but-melted ice cream with rich chocolate syrup and garnishing it with sprinkles and cherries so as to make it appear more seductive still. The ache—the anguish—the regret—the pressure is almost too much to bear. Time becomes sluggish, seemingly intent upon amplifying his suffering. He wonders despairingly—is it worth it?

At last, the Master reenters the crowd’s presence. He holds up a hand; the never-ending cacophony quells immediately.

The Master expresses disappointment that almost no one had the foresight to heed his advice. Sending the rest away, he bids Subir to follow him into the chamber beyond.

Inside the room they behold an enormous refrigerator towering higher than a house. It has an almost sacred air about it, generating a kind of reverence from Subir.

“You have done well to wait,” the Master tells him. “Those who partook early might have seem pleased at the moment, but already the guilt of their negligence wells up within them, turning the sweetness on their tongues to bitter distaste. And even now, any one of them would give anything to be in your place. The real treasure of my creamery lies in here, where you may behold the entire picture of what I have offered you.”

With that, the colossal door of the refrigerator swings open, nearly blinding Subir with its dazzling contents. His eyes widen.

Every flavor of ice cream known to man—including some known only to deities. Unthinkable varieties of chocolate, strawberry, cookie dough, mint and chip, rocky road, rainbow sherbet…everything imaginable and more. Even vanilla is available.

“Now that you see properly all that I have made available to you,” the Master says, “you may sample as many as you like, and then choose whichever one suits you best—including the flavor with which you were tested, if you ultimately decide this is your most passionate craving.”

Subir is delighted beyond expression. Opportunity has not been lost after all, but gained. He does not know where to begin.

Consider your relationship with an ice cream sundae.