• 6 •

SEEDS OF FORTUNE

Just as Hakim was about to ask Maloney what had happened, a throng of children ran up to the magician and pleaded to see his tricks. Hakim was contemplating his next move when he noticed an old man with a small gathering of people around him. Hakim moved closer to hear what the old man was saying.

Could this be the wise one the Master spoke of? he wondered. The old man was thin and haggard. His body looked like a collapsible piece of furniture, neatly folded into a sitting position. His head was bald. The tattered clothing he wore was stained from dirt and wear.

The small brown varnished bowl that he held in his lap was empty now, and the old man was looking to fill it by telling a story. He coughed forcefully, then looked around at his audience, wanting to tailor his story just right. The old man fixed his eyes on Hakim as he began to speak.

“This is a story about two farmers from a very long time ago. The two farmers worked for Indra, the king of the heavens, and they understood it as their duty to produce crops and grains for his kingdom. The men felt very blessed to be employed directly by Indra, and they wanted to please him.

“One day Indra called the two men to his court and told them, ‘In one year I am having a great assembly. Everyone will be there, and I will need to have the finest crops from both of you. I want you to concentrate on that one purpose for the next year.’

“Both of the men were grateful to be of service, and immediately returned to their farms to begin their work.

“Upon reaching his farm, the first farmer ripped out all the old crops and planted a thousand seeds. He yoked his bulls and watered his fields with a thousand buckets of water.

“The other farmer went back to his farm, planted a handful of seeds in the small plot of dirt outside his house, then watered the seeds while thanking the Gods for their growth.

“As the days passed, the first farmer began to worry about his plants. He tended his crops all day, driving his bulls over the field many times to give them extra water. He kept watching his crops, concerned about the fate of every seed. He thought, How could I be so blessed by Indra? I must not fail him. Even at night he would dream about his crops; he would dream about failure. His heart was overcome with fear, and when he woke up sweating in the middle of the night, he thought, I shall not fear, I shall work harder. But fear still lurked in his heart.

“The other farmer continued in his own manner of doing things. Each morning he stepped outside his doorway and poured a little water over the small plot of earth. People might think the fellow strange, but he spoke kindly to his seeds and even sang to them. In the evening, he would say good night to his garden with gratitude in his heart. At night he slept peacefully, content that his plants would surely flourish.

“Finally, after a year had passed, Indra called the two farmers to his court. The two men stood before him, and he addressed them both saying, ‘My assembly is tomorrow, what have you prepared?’

“The first farmer began trembling, ‘I have nothing, Your Highness.’ He was nearly in tears and consumed with guilt and fear. ‘I tried very hard. I did not leave my plants for one day, so I cannot understand why I failed to produce anything. Please forgive me,’ he pleaded.

“Indra looked to the second farmer, ‘And you?’

“‘Spare my brother, Your Highness. I have plenty of crops. I will give half of mine to him so that we are both able to serve you in abundance.’

“Indra looked at the two men. ‘I am curious as well as confused. How can there be so much difference in what my two best farmers have produced? How did each of you pursue your task?’

“The first farmer began to tell his story: ‘The first day I plowed the fields, planted one thousand seeds, and watered them. Every day I watched over my fields, searching for signs of growth. I cannot say why, but they failed to grow.’

“Indra looked at the second farmer, who began to tell his story: ‘The first day, I planted a handful of seeds. I cared for them the way I care for all my children — ’

“Indra interrupted, ‘How is that?’

“The farmer continued. ‘I raised them with love and affection. I gave them the nutrients and food they needed, and then I left them alone.’

“The first farmer turned to the other. ‘Why did you leave your garden alone?’

“The man turned to the first farmer. ‘So that Mother Nature could do her part,’ he said. ‘Parents cannot be with their children or watch them every moment to ensure that they grow into adults. It is the nature of life to grow — to flourish and expand. It is the nature of plants to flourish if given the right conditions for their growth. I gave my plants what they needed, and trusted Mother Nature to do the rest. She will always support us when we have faith that she will.’

“‘But I planted one thousand seeds, and you planted a handful. How can this be?’ the first farmer said.

“Indra followed up. ‘Were you not afraid that your small handful of seeds would not be enough?’

“‘I have been a student of farming for very long now,’ said the second farmer. ‘My grandfather was a farmer, and my papa was one before me. I have learned that within each seed is the potential for infinite abundance. When one plant flourishes and produces fruit, its seeds give rise to more plants that bear fruit. Each plant has more seeds than are necessary to continue its kind, and in that way, it is infinitely abundant. When I planted my seeds, I expected to receive an abundance. I thanked them for sharing their abundance, knowing I was nurturing an infinite amount more.’

“‘But when I saw that my plants were not growing, I became scared and tried even harder!’ exclaimed the first farmer. ‘Were you never afraid that your plants would not grow?’

“The second farmer responded, ‘I knew that fear could not help my plants to grow. Fear only causes us to create what we fear. Knowing this, I chose to plant love in my heart and nurture it with gratitude. Love chases fear away, and gratitude keeps love alive. Where there is love, there is no room for fear. I cannot serve you well, Indra, if I am not a happy man.’

“The first farmer spoke again, ‘Now I see that I have brought my fears upon me by giving them my attention.’ He looked up at Indra. ‘What is my punishment for failing you?’

“Indra looked down at the man. ‘I think you have suffered enough, worrying this past year, fearing the days to come, and feeling guilt for the days gone by. There is another seed here, a seed of opportunity to learn and do better in the future. You are both invited to join the assembly tomorrow.’”

The old storyteller stopped speaking. Some listeners had already dropped coins and small bills into his bowl; others did so now. They themselves were poor, but they understood the cycle of giving: when one gives, one engenders receiving.

Hakim dug into his pockets, knowing he had nothing to give to the old man. He thought about darting away, but he knew his guilt would follow him.

The old man turned to Hakim. “Come, sit.”

Hakim glanced around to be certain the storyteller was talking to him. Most of the onlookers were already walking away. Maloney had disappeared as well, but Hakim was not concerned. Somehow he knew the magician would reappear when the time was right.

Hakim approached the old man and sat beside him. “You need not have money in order to give,” the old man said.

Hakim looked intently at the man. “But I have nothing else to give you.” Hakim thrust his hands deep into his pockets, hoping that something might appear in the bottom of them.

“Child,” the old man responded, “do not search in your pockets for what you have to give. Search in your heart. There is a special gift that can only come from you. Just as I am here to tell my stories, you are here to share your special gift.”

“I don’t know what mine is,” Hakim said sincerely.

“Then search in your heart, child, and if there is stillness, you are on your way and are most fortunate.”

Hakim was intrigued by these last words. On my way to what? To whom? He began to think.

“Stillness is the womb of creation, child. It lies in the silent space between every action.”

Hakim interrupted. “I do not understand. How can I create anything by being still?”

The old man responded, “When you are still, you can feel the sound of your own heart beating. Is that not so?”

Hakim nodded as the old man continued. “And if you remain still and cover your ears, you may even hear the sound of your own heart. But what is more important is to listen to its guidance. If we are always active, if we are always listening to the noise of the outside world, we forget that our heart will guide us if we only listen. We forget where the source of our creativity comes from — stillness.”

Hakim was mesmerized by the storyteller’s words. He is very wise, Hakim thought to himself.

“Stillness establishes a connection with our own heart, and each heart is connected to the heart of humanity, the universal wisdom. That is why I say you are fortunate if there is stillness in your heart. In stillness, you can listen to your heart, and when you listen, you will know what you are here to give.”

Hakim nodded slowly. He did not fully understand the old man’s words, but he could sense there was truth in what he said.

Maloney suddenly reappeared at Hakim’s side. “Shall we be off? There is another show to see.”

Hakim looked up at Maloney, then turned to thank the storyteller, but the old man was already merging into the carnival crowd. Hakim followed him with his eyes for a moment, then stood and followed Maloney.

As Hakim and Maloney walked through the carnival, the magician began to speak. “When we understand our place within nature’s symphony, we can live in harmony with nature’s song.” He looked back at Hakim.

“There are an infinite number of forces at work — for and against us as well, I’m afraid. Only when we understand these forces can we control our fate.” He grinned at Hakim. “Come, I’ll show you.”