The Gardener and the Seed

Dedicated to my father, a master gardener who provided well for his family of millions of seedlings, including the six he created himself.

The gardener held a tiny seed up to the sunlight and said:

“Okay little seed, this is your chance.  The one who made you spent a lot of time ensuring your existence.  He began in the earth and now it’s your turn to continue the cycle.  In order to bask in this sunlight again and know your true worth, you’ll need to grow. Otherwise, you’ll remain complacent and never bear fruit. I’ll give you the start you need. I’ve prepared this special patch of soil for you.  It’s rich and full of goodness. I’ll plant you here, safe and snug. I’ll provide you all the water you’ll need every day without fail. That is my promise. But it’s up to you to grow.”

The seed was eager to please and replied excitedly “Thank you for the opportunity. I’m ready!” 

The gardener tucked the seed gently into the earth and covered him up. It was cold. It was dark.  The little seed couldn’t tell which way was up or down.  He didn’t know how long he would be there.  But the water came, as promised. He soaked it in and made up a mantra to chant: “Sun! Fruit! Know! Grow! Sun! Fruit! Know! Grow!”

The little seed had no idea how many days had passed in the dark, wet ground.  He felt bloated and ached all over. His insides were squirmy.  “Sun. Fruit. Know. Grow… Sun. Fruit. Know. Grow.“

More time passed and eventually the seed‘s impatience overtook his hopeful outlook. He felt awful.  He yelled into the darkness “I don’t want any more water!  I already feel like I’m to going to burst!  Sun. Fruit. Know…Whatever!”

He sat there in the darkness, waterlogged and defeated.  The gardener hadn’t warned him about feeling so terrible.  He had seemed like such a nice man, but doubt was quickly replacing hope.  “Why did you put me here?” he cried out.  “And what does it mean to be complacent?“ But there was no answer. 

As he dozed off to sleep again, he sensed movement in the darkness.  A slimy, squirmy looking thing broke through into the seed’s space. 

“What in earth are you?”  exclaimed the seed. 

“Well I’m an earth worm, of course.” replied the squirmy monster.

“Weird! Can I ask you something? Do you like being here in the earth?” asked the seed.

“No place I’d rather be!” replied the worm.

“Mr. Worm, can you tell me what complacent means?” asked the seed.

“Complacent?  Oh no! No time to be complacent. Gotta stay on the move! Move the earth, that’s what I do.  No use in staying put all day!”  replied the worm. “You look as if you’re ready to move the earth too!”

“What do you mean? Can I move the earth too?” the seed asked with excitement.

But it was too late. The weird, wiggly earth worm was gone, and the earth was quiet again. The seed was very lonely. He had enjoyed the worm’s company, if only for a few seconds. 

“No time to be complacent.  Move the earth.” thought the seed. "What does that mean?"  He was tired of being here, alone with his thoughts, waiting for water.  He couldn’t imagine being happy staying here in the earth like the worm.  He remembered the sun, flickering on the gardener’s face while the gardener comforted him.  He sighed and thought to himself “Well, no use in staying put all day!”  He looked around and found that the worm had created a bit of extra space in the earth as he passed by.  Maybe the extra space would give him an easier start.

“Wait up, Mr. Worm! I’m right behind you!”

The seed winced, squirmed and held his breath for extra power. 

Shplack!

“What in earth was that?” exclaimed the seed.  “Was that…me?”

“Excuse me.” the seed offered up sheepishly in the dark, hoping no one had heard his embarrassing noise.

Suddenly, the seed was squirming all over, in multiple directions.
“Wait, am I moving?” yelled the seed. 

He couldn’t tell if he was going anywhere, yet he could feel himself spreading in two directions. He felt the earth move on either side of him. He still had no idea which way was up, which way was down, which way was forward.  But it felt good.  He enjoyed a satisfying stretch and yelled out “Move the earth, that’s what I do!”

The seed stretched and wiggled for hours, feeling parts of himself reaching further and further away in both directions.  After a while, he became extremely thirsty and realized he had taken the water for granted.  He thought of the gardener and wondered when he would fulfill his daily duty.  “He would be so proud of me, if only he could see me” he thought to himself.

The seed finally felt the cool, wet sensation he longed for.  The water surrounded him, making the earth loose and even easier to navigate.  Feeling refreshed, the seed resumed his journey outward in whatever direction he could.  “Move the earth, that’s what I do.  Sun. Fruit. Know - Wait! What? Fruit? What exactly is fruit?” he wondered. He continued with all his might, when all of the sudden, to his surprise, a part of him burst through the earth.  He immediately winced and shrieked.  It had been so long he had forgotten this strange sensation.  It was so warm, so bright.

“The sun. It’s the sun!  I made it back. I grew!”

He adjusted slowly, stretching out to enjoy the newfound space.  He could feel other bits of himself wriggling around below in the dark. Somehow, it made him feel stable and safe to know he was still part of the earth. The warmth of the light was intoxicating. He felt like singing a song to announce his return.  He looked around and saw awkward, skinny little creatures poking up out of the dark.  Looking down at himself, he realized he looked like them.  He was no longer a seed. He was much more than a seed!

“Pssst! Hey you over there! How long have you been there?” he whispered out to the green, skinny thing closest to him. 

“I just got here myself. Isn’t it beautiful?” replied the thing. 

“It certainly is.  I’m so glad to have some company!” said the much-more-than-a-seed.

“Any idea what we are?” asked the thing.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m definitely not a worm, because there’s nowhere I’d rather be than out here!” answered the much-more-than-a-seed.

“We’re called seedlings.“ said one of the other things matter-of-factly from the next row over.  “I heard it from one of the tall ones over there.“ She seemed very sure of herself.

“Seedlings? Huh. Sounds like much more than a seed to me.  I’ll go with that.” said the now seedling. 

A shadow blocked out the sun, followed by a familiar voice.

“I knew you could do it.  Well done, little seedling. Well done indeed.” said the voice.

The seedling recognized the voice and looked up anxiously.  It was the gardener.  His big, square fingertip came down and gently patted the earth, tightening it around him.  He had never felt more safe and happy.

The seedling grew taller each day.  He grew outward as well, branching off into many directions to ensure his proud presence and impress the gardener. He learned many things from his surrounding friends, especially the know-it-all girl on the next row over.  She explained after a few days of stretching and growing, that they had become “full-fledged-plants”.  She taught him to space out and spiral his leaves just so, to ensure that each of them would have a fair opportunity to receive the gift of water and sun.  The sun visited often and so did the gardener.  Every once in awhile, a raggedy looking bully would appear, growing next to him, threatening to take his space and block his view of the sun.  But the gardener, ever caring, would kindly remove the bully.  He felt safe and loved.  He wanted to be all he could be and show his appreciation.  “But how?” he wondered.

The answer came one day when he noticed a brightly colored something-or-other sprouting out of him. It wasn’t green like the rest of him.  It scared him a bit.

“What is this thing?  Is this supposed to be here? Am I going to die?” he asked dramatically.

“Relax. It’s just a flower. It’s not cancer!” replied the know-it-all. 

“But why is it on me?  What purpose does it serve?” pressed the full-fledged-plant.

“It’s the beginnings of your fruits, dummy. It looks like your flowers just came in a little faster than everyone else’s.  Harumph!”  pouted the know-it-all.

“Fruit! I forgot about the fruit!” exclaimed the full-fledged-plant. “This is what it’s all about!”

He was euphoric.  He was accomplishing what he had set out to do from the beginning.  He was grateful to the gardener for helping him to become such a fine plant.  His heart was full and his flower seemed to cry sweet tears of joy.  Within days, all his friends were in full bloom as well, and they received other visitors from the sky. They were fuzzy-buzzies that hovered and landed on them gently and momentarily, collecting bits from their flowers. It tickled a bit, but as the know-it-all explained, he needed the fuzzy-buzzies as much as they needed him.  It felt good to be needed. 

In the following weeks his flowers turned to not-so-delicate, tumor like monstrosities that began to weigh him down and make him even more thirsty and impatient. 

“What on earth are these things?  Am I going to die?” he asked dramatically.  

“That’s fruit, you silly seedling!” exclaimed the know-it-all.

“I am not a seedling! I’m a full-fledged plant I’ll have you know!” he retorted.

“Then start acting like one!” spouted the know-it-all. 

The full-fledged plant realized she was right.  It was time to suck it up and fully realize his potential. Enough with this irrational fear.  He flexed his stem, puffed up his leaves, holding himself stout and proud.  He was going to have the biggest, brightest, best fruit possible, whatever it was!

Days passed, and his fruits grew. Pretty as they were, the burden was heavy. He drooped a little, but only in areas that weren’t producing fruit; a compensation to help him focus his energy on his goal. 

One day the sun didn’t visit as it should have.  It was gray, gloomy and the sky was full of booms!  The gardener didn’t visit that day.  And yet, the water came anyway, fiercely and from all directions.  The wind was almost painful.  He and his friends shivered and struggled to keep ahold of their prized fruits. The earth beneath them slopped up onto their leaves more than usual. It was a long, cold day that stole away his pride and hope.  He wondered if the sun and the gardener were okay in this horrible mess.  For a moment, he wanted to just give up and allow it all to wilt.  It would be so easy.  Just a little nap.  Just let it all down.

Just then came another familiar voice from below:

“Well done, little seed. Well done!” exclaimed the voice. 

“I’m not a seed, I’m-” the full-fledged plant countered, stopping short.

It was Mr. Worm.  He had come out of the earth and was frolicking in this hideous mess of a day.  He was giddy, squirming shamelessly in the mud. 

“Just popped out to enjoy the rain for a bit. Looks like you’ve really made something of yourself!” said Mr. Worm. 

“Thank you, Mr. Worm. But why are you here? Don’t you prefer the earth?” asked the full-fledged plant.

“The storm is a gift. You should be enjoying it.“

“A gift?  Are you crazy? This is chaos!” the full-fledged plant yelled, trying to hear his own voice above the storm.

“You can’t truly appreciate peace without experiencing a bit of chaos.  Look around you. You are a fully fledged plant with enormous, delicious fruit to bear.  Revel the rain, wiggle in the wind and make a merry mess in this mud!” yelled Mr. Worm, slopping up onto the full-fledged-plant’s leaves and fruits.

And with that, he disappeared back into the earth with a hearty laugh. 

“There’s no mud in my mantra, Mr. Worm!” screamed the fully fledged plant. “Sun! Fruit! Know! Grow!” He chanted at the top of his lungs.

He heard giggles around him.  Giggles amidst the scary chaos? How could that be?  He looked around and saw his friends laughing as they shivered.  He realized they were laughing at him. 

“There’s no mud in my mantra, Mr. Worm!” mocked the know-it-all.  More giggles rose above the wind. 

The full fledged plant blushed.

“Actually, that’s brilliant.” giggled the know-it-all.  “If there’s anything we could use right now, it’s a reminder of our purpose.” she relented. 

Then something amazing happened.  A murmur of mantras rose up through the mud and the wind. 

“Sun! Fruit! Know! Grow!” they repeated over and over.  It seemed the whole garden had joined in.  The full-fledged plant felt a second wind of his own coming on.  He puffed himself up and joined in. 

“Sun! Fruit! Know! Grow!”  It carried on, into the wind, blocking out the beating of the storm. Everyone held strong, into the night, giving it all they had.  The garden was a chorus of wind, rain, mud and mantras for hours. 

Finally, that familiar flicker washed over them.  The sun was returning.  They looked around at each other. They were disheveled. Their leaves were tattered. Their stems were weak.  But their fruits held strong. 

“Hip hip, hooray!” yelled one of the full-fledged plant’s friends.  “We made it!”

They celebrated in the sun.  They laughed at the mud splatters on their leaves and fruits.  They complimented each other’s courage and strength.  Then another friend returned. 

The gardener looked down at the full-fledged plant and the others and smiled.  He crouched down and began to clean them up gently.  

The full-fledged plant looked up to the gardener with admiration. “I did what you said.  I grew.  I grew so much that I was able to make these for you.  They’re a little muddy, but I hope you’ll enjoy them.“ said the full-fledged plant, offering up his fruits.

The gardener looked proud.  “You did good, little plant. You did really good.”

“You did well.” said the gardener’s wife, gently correcting him as she approached to admire the beautiful fruit. 

The full-fledged plant beamed, and continued to produce fruit for weeks, offering it up to the smiling gardener.  It felt good to be appreciated and to be able to return the gardener’s favor. 

As the weeks passed and the air cooled, the fruitful plant began to droop, no matter how proud he felt.  Bits of him wilted more each day.  Eventually, the gardener crouched down and surveyed his leaves with a humane look on his face. 

“I’m sorry.  I tried to make more, but I’m just so tired.  I hope that you have enough fruits to last you.”  said the full-fledged plant weakly.

“It’s okay, little plant.  You’ve worked hard and given me and my family much to be happy with.  I’ll tell you a secret.   I kept a bit of some of your fruits.  Look, they’re here in my pocket.” said the gardener.

He reached into his overalls and pulled out a handkerchief, unfolding it gently.  It revealed a small pile of little things the plant recognized from his childhood.

“They’re seeds, aren’t they? Seeds like I use to be.” whispered the full-fledged plant, so as not to disturb the sleeping seeds.

“That’s right, little plant.  But not just any seeds. They’re seeds from the fruits you gave me.  I‘ll take good care of them for you and when the time comes, I‘ll give them the same opportunity I gave you. An opportunity to make you proud.“ whispered the gardener. 

“My seeds?“ asked the full-fledged plant, a glimmer of pride in his voice.  “I did good, didn’t I?  I did really good.”

Satisfied with their lives of courage and fruitfulness, the full-fledged plant and his friends gave in to the sleepiness brought on by the crisp air of Fall, and the gardener politely helped them return to the earth, making it rich and full of goodness again. 

Time passed, and many generations of the seed graced the earth, fighting the good fight to bear their own fruits.  With each seed, the gardener relayed the story of the one who made their existence possible, instilling a sense of pride and purpose as he tucked them into the earth. 

After several years, the gardener too became tired, but was happy with the life of abundance he had provided to his plants and his family.  When the time came, his wife helped him grace the earth as his plants did. She planted the descendants of the full fledged plant in his grave with him.  Together, they made the earth even richer and full of goodness. 

“You both did good.  You both did really good.” cried the gardener’s wife quietly.