The Seeds

The writing prompt was, “Carefully, I pressed the seeds into the ground and covered them up. I knew these seeds would change my life forever, and I wasn’t about to let them go to waste.” 

The Seeds

I don’t know where the seeds came from. This packet was leaning against the tree as I walked the forest path. There was no label on the packet. However, my name was written on it.

As I bent to pick up the packet, the soreness in my bones did their usual reminder that I was becoming older. Then I touched the packet of seeds, and warmth flooded my body. Where was this feeling coming from?

The odd thing about the warmth was that it stayed with me on my return home. Not knowing why, rather than entering my house, I went to the garden shed. Something in me was compelling me to plant the seeds now. 

I grabbed my trowel, made my way to the garden, and located a place where the seeds would be planted. This, too, was unusual because the place I chose was not one where I had ever planted anything. 

The ground was hard, and many stones were embedded in it. There were no life signs anywhere, no bugs, no weeds, no source of water, and no hope of success. Yet, here was the spot I chose to plant the seeds. The area was overshaded, and there was no hope of these seeds getting sun, yet I dug my trowel into the ground. 

As hard as the ground seemed, the trowel glided beneath it. With each clump of earth I dislodged and turned over, the soil became dark and rich. Something was happening that made no sense. 

I opened the packet and pulled out the three seeds within. I placed one in the earth at a time, not in a row as expected, but in a triangle formation. Again, not as expected. Something outside me was guiding my moves. 

I covered the seeds up and left to retrieve water to nourish them. 

When I returned, there was already growth where once there was solid ground. 

Three plants had emerged from the ground. 

One was but a sapling, a small emergent bud of a plant. 

The second was a lanky but sturdy young tree standing a foot taller than me. You could see that it had blossomed with many colored leaves.  

The third was the tallest of the three. It was more aged than the first two. There were fewer leaves on it, mostly duller gray. The branches were more bent and creaked as the wind wafted past them. It looked like it had been there for a long time. 

What were these special seeds that found me? Were they a representation of what my life was meant to be? If so, they would change my outlook for the rest of my life forever. I did not know the path I would take, but I had confidence that I was destined to have a long and fulfilling one. 

About hdh

I have been telling stories for over 40 years and writing forever. I am a retired teacher and storyteller. I hope to expand upon my repertoire and use this blog as a place to do writing. The main purpose is to give me and others that choose to comment, a space in which to play with issues that deal with storytelling, storytelling ideas, storytelling in education, reactions to events, and just plain fun stories. I explore some of my own writing throughout, from character analysis, to fictional, to poetry, and personal stories. I go wherever my muse sends me. Enjoy!
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