Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Planting the Seed (story)

I wrote this about a year ago, but the early arrival of spring in southern New England has brought this post to mind. As I sit beside an open window and hear the crowd gathered at the outside tables of the pub next door, I decided it's time to repost this. Enjoy!

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The early morning sun rose gloriously in the eastern sky as the two walkers set out for a stroll down a quiet Main Street in a small New England town.

The woman glanced at a sign above a new eatery as they walked past, "Mustard Seed Cafe."

She smiled mischievously as she took a sip of her coffee and commented toward her companion, "That sign reminds me of something... Maybe something you said once, about a seed...."

The man walking at her side laughed, his white teeth showing clearly through his beard. "And what did you take away from that one?"

She shrugged and glanced around her looking for some inspiration for another witty remark. "Wasn't there a parable involved..."

A little wren dove down to the sidewalk a few feet before them and picked at the concrete block a moment, then fluttered away. "No, that's right, the parable I'm thinking about involved seed being tossed in different places, each failing save the seed that hit fertile grown and produced hundredfold or something like that."

He chuckled nodding, "...something like that. So what about the mustard seed?"

She grinned as she took another sip of her coffee from the travel mug. "Little seed becomes big plant. Right?"

His deep brown eyes took on a blend of challenge and mischeif, "Maybe you can write a story about it?"

She smirked, "Yeah, right."

He gestured expansively with his arm, "You are a writer; you were given that gift. Write a story about it. Maybe then you'd understand it better."

She took a good swallow of her coffee, while she started to wrap her mind around the challenge, knowing there was something there that maybe DID make a good story...

She shifted the story into the back of mind to simmer, and the conversation changed, covering a broad range of topics about what was going on in her life.

Before she knew it, the conversation arrived at the topic she needed to speak about. Part of her shyly wanted to hold back and digress, but another part knew this is why she asked her companion to walk with her this morning. She really needed his advice, his guidance. She rolled the still-warm metal travel mug between her palms as she searched for the words.

"I... I really don't know what it is I should be doing with my life. All these little projects get started, and then... they just seem to peeter off into nothing. I feel like I start so many things and just can't seem to finish them. What is it that I should be doing?"

He draped his arm lovingly across her shoulders and smiled gently. "Plant the seeds."

"And then?"

"Nurture them a little until they sprout."

Her hands paused as she glanced quizzically at him. "And then?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

He grinned, seeing she wasn't getting it, but - with infinite patience - gave her the time to think . "Nothing."

She knew that look on his face, she'd seen it before. She walked wordlessly at his side for a spell, fingers wrapped around the warmth of the mug and her shoulders wrapped in the warm embrace of his arm.

"But if I do nothing, what will happen to what I started? It would just unravel wouldn't it?"

"Not necessarily."

Again, she shot him an inquiring look, raising one eyebrow in his direction.

He smiled back at her but didn't say a word.

"Well?"

He paused and turned to face her. She stopped and faced him with a look that clearly read "Tell me or stop teasing me."

He playfully poked the bridge of her nose and quietly replied, "That's my job."

The challenge in her eyes faded as comprehension dawned in her mind. Then she smiled as they resumed their walk. She nodded and tossed back the last of the coffee. "You're right. I really should trust you more often."

Companionably the two continued their stroll down Main Street.

Two pairs of sandals tapped quietly down the sidewalk in the early spring morning. One pair worn below jeans and a T-shirt; the other beneath a desert robe from a bygone age.

- ESA

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