A Tale of Two Flowers

Two seeds carried on the back of a strong wind were cast into a garden.

One seed fell into a sunny bed of soil, which was judiciously cared for by the gardener who lived on the land.

The second seed slipped through the cracks of the concrete upon which the gardener walked.

The first seed was graced with sunlight, nutrients, water and the gentle hand of the gardener. The second seed was afforded no such kindness.

The first seed soon developed into a flower. Its roots stood undisturbed by movement, its stem unhindered by objects, its leaves uncovered and open to full sun. It came to bloom in the most magnificent colours. The second seed struggled to lay down roots, was constantly nudged and pushed by the movement of the gardener along the path, and its dark crevice afforded it minimal light. It took much longer to come to bloom, in colours far less striking and bold.

But one day, a storm came through.

The first flower was torn from its bed and cast asunder along the same path the gardener walked. Yet the second flower stood strong throughout the storm.

The disturbances along its roots which delayed its growth caused them to bury deeper; the hindrances which pushed and pulled at its stem impelled it to grow thicker; the coverage which prevented light from shining through drove it to conserve energy. The second flower survived the storm because its whole life was an act of training, leaving it well equipped to handle more difficult times ahead.

But we aren’t really talking about flowers are we?

The blessed children who are afforded perfect childhoods can sometimes be the worst equipped to deal with the storms that rage through life; contrarily, those who know suffering well are best equipped to deal with it.

We all face storms in life, and to those who suffer more than most, the meagre radiance of gratitude one can take from all that suffering is that it leaves one better equipped to weather the next storm to come.