The box of seeds

A man going away on a long journey called his two grown up sons & gave them each a box of seeds, blessed them & left without any instructions on using the gift.

The younger son was so excited – for it was indeed a beautiful carved wooden box & inside it, seeds of a lovely shade of brown. He closed the box & then took it & kept it carefully in his room.

Now the older son admired the carvings on the box too but decided that he would use what was inside it. He quickly went to survey the barren land behind his house. With the help of a few people he ploughed the hard earth & when it was just right, he planted all the seeds in neat rows. He made sure it was watered regularly & nurtured it with care.

In due course the older son’s box of seeds had produced a mighty harvest. He was able to sell his crops in the village market at a profit & gather a few sacks of seeds to be planted again! This was possible because he was willing to take a risk & plant the seeds his Father had given him.

The younger son’s box of seeds remained just that – a box in a lonely room gathering dust, with seeds inside it longing to spring to life & produce a harvest if only they could be trusted, given a chance & allowed out of their box.

All of us have within us the seeds of potential & greatness. It is upto us to decide whether we will allow those seeds to grow or hide it where it will never have a chance to emerge.

We need to have the faith to believe that inside us has been placed seeds of talent, creativity, growth & opportunity.

We must do our part to recognize the seeds in our lives, nurture it & help it grow so it can produce a mighty harvest in our lives.

Short Story by Eden

My niece Eden loves to write. At the age of 12 her thoughts are unique & rather deep. Here goes one of her short stories.

Defense is the Best Form of Attack

By

Eden

The drum was beating. The horn was sound.

“The king is coming! The king is coming!” shouted the people of the village.

The king hadn’t visited in a long time, and did not inform anyone about his visit. Nothing was prepared.

So the bakers rushed to get him fresh pastries, and the tailors rushed to get new clothes to gift him. Yet when the king got out of his chariot he said: “I want no gifts or sweets or anything as such. All I want is a brave man to help me.”

Many boys and men stepped out. Too many for the king to choose. So he asked them to battle to see who the three strongest men were. The battle took place then and there. Finally the three men were chosen.

The king still did not reveal what he needed them for. But the men did not question the king; they simply did what they were told.

The king took them on his chariot and invited them to come with him to the palace. When they reached the palace the king explained to them that he had three tigers. Each of the men were to battle with one tiger and make it surrender to them.

The first man battled furiously with force, bravery and strength. The tiger had tried to defend itself but it was too late. The man hit and beat it until it was dead.

The second man, too fought bravely, but did not kill the tiger. He tossed it around and severely injured it. The man soon could not fight anymore. He began to feel sorry for the tiger. He walked away in shame.

The third man did not fight. He simply defended himself from the tiger’s actions. Soon the tiger began to calm down, as he knew the man meant no harm. It soon stopped attacking the man. The man came out without a scar or wound and so did the tiger.

Seeing both the man and the tiger without injury, the king was surprised. He decided that the tiger had surrendered to the man. He then declared the man, the strongest and most respected man in the kingdom and asked him to protect his daughter while he was away. He said all this not knowing that the man did not fight, but just defended himself.

       *                *              *

The Bread Knife

A poem by my dear 12 year old niece, Eden.

The Bread Knife

A bread knife I was,

A bread knife I am.

I sat there on the shelf,

Of the Winchester’s store.

*   *   *

A man walked in,

One fine day.

He took me, and made me,

Cut all the bread.

*   *   *

I cut hard bread and soft bread.

Fresh bread and stale bread.

Wheat bread and flour bread,

Until one day I could cut,

No more bread.

*   *   *

He tried to sharpen me,

But I could not be sharpened.

He tried to shape me,

But I could not be shaped.

*   *   *

He hadn’t taken care of me,

He had to throw me away.

*   *   *

A bread knife I was,

A bread knife I no longer am.

*   *   *