The grain of wheat
I am just a small seed in the basket of the sower as he walks up and down the field, dropping my brothers and sisters as he moves. You do things differently in your time. You have machines which plant seeds at regular intervals in straight lines. That is not the way in which farmers work in my time.
You see, my brothers and sisters and I all grew up in the same field and were harvested at the same time. Some of us were kept back for planting for the next crop. It is exciting to think of being reborn, so to speak, as a plant just like my mother. A field of wheat looks so lovely and brings so much hope and life.
It is strange to think that, in a way, I am going to die. If I am to grow, then I will no longer be a seed, so the only way in which I can describe all that will happen to me is that I will die as a seed and will be reborn, first as a tiny shoot, and then into a proud stem. You will not notice my flowers, but the insects will see them and so will the wind. Pollen will fertilise their stamens and there will be new seed formed, for that is the way of life for wheat.
If I die as a seed, I will produce a harvest.
Life is a gift. If I decide to be selfish, I will remain a seed, but I will not experience life. In fact, as I lie in the ground, I will rot. Nobody will regret my passing for nobody will know that I have been around.
If I am unselfish and stretch forth the embryo root and shoot held within me, I become a thing of beauty, weak and tender at first, but growing in strength as time goes by. The more I reach up to the heavens, then all the more do I become a sign of hope and promise. If I open up, dying to myself as a seed, then will I bear flowers. Then will I be fruitful. Then will I bear a harvest.
Life is a gift to be shared!
God bless,
You see, my brothers and sisters and I all grew up in the same field and were harvested at the same time. Some of us were kept back for planting for the next crop. It is exciting to think of being reborn, so to speak, as a plant just like my mother. A field of wheat looks so lovely and brings so much hope and life.
It is strange to think that, in a way, I am going to die. If I am to grow, then I will no longer be a seed, so the only way in which I can describe all that will happen to me is that I will die as a seed and will be reborn, first as a tiny shoot, and then into a proud stem. You will not notice my flowers, but the insects will see them and so will the wind. Pollen will fertilise their stamens and there will be new seed formed, for that is the way of life for wheat.
If I die as a seed, I will produce a harvest.
Life is a gift. If I decide to be selfish, I will remain a seed, but I will not experience life. In fact, as I lie in the ground, I will rot. Nobody will regret my passing for nobody will know that I have been around.
If I am unselfish and stretch forth the embryo root and shoot held within me, I become a thing of beauty, weak and tender at first, but growing in strength as time goes by. The more I reach up to the heavens, then all the more do I become a sign of hope and promise. If I open up, dying to myself as a seed, then will I bear flowers. Then will I be fruitful. Then will I bear a harvest.
Life is a gift to be shared!
God bless,
Sr Janet
