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A Handful of Seeds

A Handful of Seeds


Today is the day! Finally, a garden of my own!

You see, I’ve worked hard and saved every penny.

And I have finally earned enough money

For a handful of seeds.


I begin the journey to my empty dirt patch when I see a Farmer.

“Excuse me, Miss? Could I have a moment of your time?”

With plenty of daylight left to get to my garden, I stop to listen.

“I work day and night on my harvest, yet only produce just enough food

to feed my family with nothing left over to sell.

Could you spare any seeds?”


I close my hands tightly around my seeds as the breeze blows by

Feeling my accomplishment one small circle at a time.

But surely I can share. After all, I’ll still have plenty.

So I smile, and hand the Farmer some seeds.


Feeling proud of myself, I carry on and see the Mailman.

“Excuse me, Miss? Could I have a moment of your time?”

I cannot be rude, so I stop to listen.

“My Mother just arrived in town and I’ve no time to shop after shift.

She’s never believed I could provide for myself on my own,

and I desperately want to make her proud by planting my own vegetables.

Could you spare any seeds?”


Looking down at my hand, I still have enough to share.

I don’t need these all for myself.

I smile, wait for the bikes to pass by, and hand the Mailman some seeds.


My handful of seeds feels much lighter as I press on.

My legs have grown tired but visions of my future crops keep me going.

“Excuse me, Miss? Could I have a moment of your time?”


I look up to see a Mother with her 5 littles rushing my way.

She explains that her youngest had been ill

and the hospital bills were adding up to more than she could handle,

making grocery money was scarce.

“Could you spare any seeds?”


I feel a squeeze around my legs and look down to see the sweet child’s arms around me.

I realize that she has all these mouths to feed, and I’ve only got mine.

How selfish would I be to not help, I think to myself.

I smile, and hand the Mother some seeds.


By now, I am tired. And I am weary.

The extra time I spent with people meant I was running out of daylight.

Just as the last bit of sun began to set, I finally arrive at my patch of dirt.

I open my hand to display my precious seeds only to find,

There was nothing in my hand.

My body sinks with exhaustion as the reality hits me.

I had given away every last seed I’d saved for.


As my knees hit the ground I cry out “God? What did I do wrong? I loved people like you’ve asked me to. Now here I sit with no seeds left to plant.”


He replied,

“Sweet Child, I did ask you to love those around you, but I think you misunderstood.

You see, I tried to speak to you on your journey, but you couldn’t hear me.


I was the wind on your face by the Farmer.

I knew he was tired, but I wanted him to trust that I would provide.”

I was the bicycle passing by the Mailman.

I knew he felt unworthy, but I wanted him to look to me for his worth.

I was the tightness on your legs from the child.

I knew the Mother was afraid, but I wanted her to come to me for comfort.


Don’t you see? I gave you seeds so you could plant them, watch them grow, and share your blessings with others. For the Farmer, the Mailman, and the Mother could benefit from what you produce. But you cannot bless the world with a harvest, if you haven’t any seeds to plant.”


K. Monsma

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