The Seed

The Seed

Once upon a time there was a little, rough seed lying in a drawer. Although there were many other seeds with it, it was very lonely because it was the only one of its kind in the drawer. Moreover, to make matters worse, it didn't even know what kind of seed it was. All the others did.

There came a day on which all the seeds were bragging about what fine, beautiful flowers they would be when they grew up. How they would fill the senses and lift the spirits of those who saw them. The little seed lay very quietly in a corner, hoping no one would notice it. For, if asked, how could it answer what kind of flower seed it was if it didn't know?

A rose seed proudly looking about, spied the little seed in the corner and said,

"And what are you? What kind of flower will you be? I don't recognize your seed's shape. Will you be pretty and have a lovely scent?"

The poor little seed looked at all the other seeds and trembled. It very quickly thought to itself:

"What can I say? I don't know. However, if I am lying in this drawer with other beautiful flower seeds, than I must be one, too. Why else would I be here?" So it said to the rose:

"I, too, am a beautiful flower. My color and scent will both be as lovely as a spring's dawning."

The others were impressed and continued to ask its name. But it would only say, "Wait and see."

Suddenly, a rough voice stopped the discussion. It was a sunflower seed. It maneuvered its way to the little seed and sneered at it.

"You're lying! You don't know what you are but I do. You're nothing but a weed! A clinging, vine-like weed and you will choke and kill whatever you touch!"

The sunflower seed said this with so much authority that everyone believed it and mocked the little rough seed. Eventually, all the other plants shunned it except for the taunting and derisions that became its daily lot. Soon, it began to believe what the sunflower seed had said.

"I don't want to hurt anyone. And I certainly don't want to kill anyone. If all I will bring to others is pain, than maybe I would be better off dead. That way, I couldn't hurt or kill anyone."

And so, the very unhappy, lonely, little rough seed closed itself up and waited for death. And waited. And waited. And waited.

One early spring day, the drawer was opened and all the seeds were removed. A Voice said, "Look at this little rough seed! I wonder what it is."

"I don't know," replied a second Voice, "but it must be a flower seed or why would it be in this drawer? Plant it and let's see."

The little rough seed heard all this and at first it tried to hide itself behind the others so that it could not be planted. Only the seeds hissed at it and rolled away. And so it was seen and taken to be planted. As it listened to the Voices, it decided,

"They must know what they are talking about... I still want to die, but maybe, just maybe there is hope for me."

So it was planted, right next to the primrose.

It lay in the dirt for a long time and felt the warmth of the Sun through the soil. The rain gave it refreshment and new Life and it started to want to grow and to want to live and to want to be.

First, it pushed a tiny root down so that it could establish itself firmly and find food. Then it started to reach up and out for the Sun, for Life. As it grew, it rejoiced in the love it felt for those around it. However, it was still unsure and still hurting from the hatred it had received in the drawer. It brought forth two leaves and heard the Voices again.

"Look how this one is growing! Faster than all the others! I think I love it most of all!"

This gave the little seedling courage to reach still higher. Other flowers around it
whispered amongst themselves about the little seedling. Some gave it encouragement, but not very much. They didn't want to be different.

And so the little seed grew, trying to express the love in its innermost being but not knowing how. Then one day it realized that it hadn't heard anyone say, "I love you" to it in a very long time. And it started to panic!

"I used to believe I was worthless but now I'm starting to believe I am something special. Was I wrong? I need to hear those words "I love you" from those I care about. I love them, but don't they love me? How can I love myself if others don't find anything worth loving in me? Doesn't anybody care?"

So it stopped reaching up. It stopped paying attention to what was going on around it. It thought it had stopped caring but it knew, deep down, it really did care. Inside itself, it was crying out for love. But it could not communicate its need.
It leaned to those who had encouraged it in the hope that one, just one, would say those saving words. But the sunflower screeched a warning:

"Be careful! Didn't I tell you that it would cling and choke you? It's trying to now! Don't let it touch you! You can't say I didn't warn you!"

And the others, in fear or embarrassment, or maybe trying to help without really understanding, backed off and turned the little seedling away. And the little seedling believed the sunflower.

No longer was the Sun warm and loving. The seedling somehow knew that the Sun cared but the Sun was not enough for the young seedling. It needed the expression of love from those around it before it could believe it was really worth loving and come to love itself. But there was only silence and the rain grew cold. Once again, the seedling closed itself up in pain. And withered.

A few days later, the Voices came again to the garden.

"Oh look! The strange little flower has died!"

"It was such a pretty little thing... I loved it. It reminded me of the dawn."

"It smelled so beautiful, too. I wonder why it died...."