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"I'm giving you everything you need to restore my garden," said the
master to the old man. "If there is anything you need from me, ask, and I
will see to it that you receive everything you need." The old man was afraid of the master, and he had never worked in such a responsible job before. Besides, he was old and often felt ill. He tried to explain this to the master. "Lord, I want to serve you. It is my greatest wish. But this garden is too much for a man like me. I am old and no longer strong. How can I care for your garden? Get someone who knows all about gardens, he would serve you better than I." |  |
The old man looked around the desolate garden and shook his head. "How can I do this work?", he asked himself. "Yet because my master gave me this work, because he believes I can do it, then I will try."
For many days the old man worked slowly to clear the garden, preparing it for planting. He found it hard at first, but as he grew used to the work, he found he could use the tools the great man had supplied for him. They made the work much easier for the old man, and soon the garden was ready to plant. Looking at the boxes of seed which had been given to him, he sighed.
"How can I do this work?", he asked himself, "I do not even recognize the seeds one from another. But I will lay them out as well as I can, according to my master's instructions."
So he began to plant the little seeds in neat rows and clusters all over the garden. It was slow, monotonous work. Soon he grew tired and bored. The work seemed so trivial and uninteresting, especially since he did not even know what it was he was planting, or how it would look when it had grown.
"Sir, I wish to serve you. But this seems such a little thing that you have given me to do. Surely I can be of more service to you?", said the old man.
The great man replied: "Without this work which you are doing, there will be no flowers, no shrubs in the garden. Besides, I have given you this work and no other. It is what I want you to do."
Again the old man questioned his master.
"Lord, could not a true gardener do this work better than I? A man who knows how to plant the correct seed at the proper time would serve you better than I. How can I make this garden beautiful, if I do not know what I am planting?"
The great man was patient, for he loved the old man. He said: "It is not you who will make the garden beautiful, but the flowers you grow. It is not for you to decide what to grow, I shall give you the right seed for this time and place. Be content, knowing that what you do is at my wish. Do not be concerned with the rest."
The old man went back to his work, and day by day, the boxes of seeds were sown into the ground. As time passed, the first shoots appeared above the ground. Soon flowers had bloomed in red and yellow, purple and orange, green leaves and green grass. All over the garden, the old man saw colour and beauty. And he praised his master. He grew more interested in the work of caring for the garden, and now he sang as he sowed the seed his master had given him. He laughed as he watered the flowers and shrubs, marvelling at the pleasure he found in his days. But he found nothing to make himself proud in the garden. It was not his seeds, not his choice. Neither was it his garden. Great, then, was his joy when his master praised him and rewarded him for his work.
"For", said the great man, "you have been part of this beauty from the beginning. You have performed your task faithfully, even when you found no purpose in it and were discouraged. Well done, good and faithful servant!"
The following year, the old man worked enthusiastically at the sowing of the seed, eager to see the first blooms of spring. As he worked, he found a large, black seed at the bottom of the box of seeds. It was the seed of a tree which had been left in the box with the flower seed; but to the old man, it was just a blackened lump. "Here is an ugly thing. It has no place in my master's beautiful garden. It is fit only to be thrown away", he said. And he threw it away into a corner of the garden where the dead shrubs were left.
As the years passed, the old man learned more and more about the garden. With time, he could recognize the seeds of each flower as it was planted. Young men were sent to him by the great man who owned the garden so that they could be trained and guided by him. He found great peace in his work. As he laboured, he learned many things from the garden, from the flowers and the grass. He was at peace whatever the season, knowing that each season brings its own work, its own revelations and surprises. And there were many surprises.
All this time, the seed of the tree lay unknown in the ground, awaiting its time. The master would often come to the garden to talk to the old man. At first, they used to talk about the garden. The problem with weeds; the beauty of certain flowers, and the weakness of others; re-arranging hedges and flower-beds. But as the years went by, their talk became more and more concerned with the old man's welfare. The master took care to see that his servant was well-fed and housed, that he was comforted in sickness and had company in his joys. The old man had found a great friend in his master. The master, in his turn, came to trust the old man more and more, giving him great responsibility over other servants.
Then, one day, the old man fell grievously ill. The master ordered him to bed and took care of him personally. "I must not stay here", said the old man, "I must be at my work." "Not now", said the master, "I have seen your work, how you have laboured on your hands and knees in my garden. It has become part of you, and you are forever part of it. But now you must rest from your labour."
The master saw to it that the old man's bed was placed by a window overlooking the garden. From his bed, he watched the young men working below him; and he would call out a suggestion every now and then. The young men bore with him patiently. And the tree began to grow.
Finally, the old man died, and to his peace was added rest. According to his wish, he was buried in the garden. The servants noticed the young tree which the old man had planted unknown to himself. "Here is a fitting memorial to the gardener", they said. "Let us bury him by his tree."
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The long years passed. The servants grew old in their turn and died;
and among the workers in the garden, the memory of the old man was
lost. No-one remembered him. But the tree grew. It stood tall and strong in
the corner of the garden, giving shade in summer and a place for the birds
to nest. And the song of the birds brought joy to many. No-one
remembered the old man, but they sang and were made glad by his
work. And he never knew. |