A Parable
I wrote this little parable several months ago. I hope you all enjoy it. Your feedback would be appreciated.
The Little Flower
by Marsha Fuller Turner
The Master of a beautiful Garden placed a little flower in it. The Little Flower felt very small and insignificant, for indeed it so appeared. The other flowers around it stood taller and their colors more brilliant, or so it seemed to the Little Flower.
The Master told the Little Flower that it must be the glory of the garden. “You must stand tall and straight,” said the Master.
Oh my, but that overwhelmed the Little Flower. “How can I?” It said. “I am small and insignificant, and you can see for yourself that I am not as brilliant in color as the others arrayed so beautifully.”
“Ah,” said the Master. “You think you must do this all by yourself, I see. But you forget that I am the Master of the Garden, and I would not give you a responsibility that you could not do. Would that not be silly of me?” Little Flower nodded its head.
“So, said the Master, “wait on Me. See what I will do.”
The Little Flower waited. It did not like to wait, but the Master, surely knew what He was doing. So Little Flower waited. In time, it felt the warmth of the sun, and the soft water falling upon it, refreshing it. It felt the movement of the rich soil underneath.
Sometimes, when the Little Flower grew weary of waiting, it felt unnerved at the movement of the earth. Sometimes the water stung and did not feel so soft. Waiting then seemed hard indeed, and the Little Flower wondered if the Master of the Garden had forgotten what He had said. The little Flower looked at the others in the garden and it longed to be like them.
When the warm sun’s rays burned, the Little Flower wondered what had become of the Master of the Garden. He tarried long. Had He forgotten what He had said? Just how patient was it to be? After all it had been a very long time. Evenings turned to mornings, mornings turned to afternoons, and still the Little Flower waited. Waiting tried the Little Flower’s patience.
Time passed. The Little Flower began to hear the beautiful flowers whisper, "How wonderful the Little Flower has become. "
“My, how tall it has grown.”
“The color of it surely has brightened the whole garden.”
Little Flower looked around, wondering who they whispered about. Surely it must be some other little flower. When the Little Flower looked, it noticed a great change had happened. Something surprising had occurred, for the Little Flower now looked down upon the other flowers; the Little Flower had grown tall. Birds came and asked to eat the seeds that rested on it.
The Master of the Garden came by and said, “See, Little Flower, in my time and under my care, you have become what I intended you to be. I have never left you. I will give you what you need, but I only give it when it is needed. Now do you understand?”
The Little Flower nodded in humility.
Finis
The Little Flowerby Marsha Fuller Turner
The Master of a beautiful Garden placed a little flower in it. The Little Flower felt very small and insignificant, for indeed it so appeared. The other flowers around it stood taller and their colors more brilliant, or so it seemed to the Little Flower.
The Master told the Little Flower that it must be the glory of the garden. “You must stand tall and straight,” said the Master.
Oh my, but that overwhelmed the Little Flower. “How can I?” It said. “I am small and insignificant, and you can see for yourself that I am not as brilliant in color as the others arrayed so beautifully.”
“Ah,” said the Master. “You think you must do this all by yourself, I see. But you forget that I am the Master of the Garden, and I would not give you a responsibility that you could not do. Would that not be silly of me?” Little Flower nodded its head.
“So, said the Master, “wait on Me. See what I will do.”
The Little Flower waited. It did not like to wait, but the Master, surely knew what He was doing. So Little Flower waited. In time, it felt the warmth of the sun, and the soft water falling upon it, refreshing it. It felt the movement of the rich soil underneath.
Sometimes, when the Little Flower grew weary of waiting, it felt unnerved at the movement of the earth. Sometimes the water stung and did not feel so soft. Waiting then seemed hard indeed, and the Little Flower wondered if the Master of the Garden had forgotten what He had said. The little Flower looked at the others in the garden and it longed to be like them.
When the warm sun’s rays burned, the Little Flower wondered what had become of the Master of the Garden. He tarried long. Had He forgotten what He had said? Just how patient was it to be? After all it had been a very long time. Evenings turned to mornings, mornings turned to afternoons, and still the Little Flower waited. Waiting tried the Little Flower’s patience.
Time passed. The Little Flower began to hear the beautiful flowers whisper, "How wonderful the Little Flower has become. "
“My, how tall it has grown.”
“The color of it surely has brightened the whole garden.”
Little Flower looked around, wondering who they whispered about. Surely it must be some other little flower. When the Little Flower looked, it noticed a great change had happened. Something surprising had occurred, for the Little Flower now looked down upon the other flowers; the Little Flower had grown tall. Birds came and asked to eat the seeds that rested on it.
The Master of the Garden came by and said, “See, Little Flower, in my time and under my care, you have become what I intended you to be. I have never left you. I will give you what you need, but I only give it when it is needed. Now do you understand?”
The Little Flower nodded in humility.
Finis
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