Once upon a time, in a beautiful garden land, there was a little seedling named Silky. It was a lovely spring day, a perfect time for growth and new beginnings. While the soil around her was warm and rich, Silky felt a flutter of fear in her tiny heart.
All her friends from the old seed bag had sprouted and were having a wonderful time. The little seedlings were growing taller and taller every day. They teased each other, laughed and sang songs under the bright sun shinny. But Silky, every time she thought of poking her head above the ground or seeing the light outside, hid herself lower in the soft warm soil.
“Why don’t you pop up and show yourself?” asked a tiny worm who wriggled along by her side.
“Oh, I couldn’t think of such a thing,” Silky replied. “Just look at the trouble the others have — waving about in every breeze, sitting out in the blazing sunshine, getting their dresses soaked by the rain, or beating against the black dirt when the wind blows. I don’t really think I was meant to grow.”
“Of course you will grow; all seedlings do that,” the worm said. “And I really think you ought to be ashamed of yourself, lying alone here in this dark old night and not once trying to look around at the fresh air and beautiful sunshine. Don’t you know how beautiful the world is?”
“Perhaps so,” said Silky. “But I am so afraid of this light I hear about and this fresh air.”
Just at that moment a big raindrop fell on Silky’s head.
“Thanks,” she said. “That does feel nice and cool. Wouldn’t this fresh air be nice too if it only had the chance?”
“You can’t tell,” said the worm, “until you have tried it. Don’t be so frightened of it. Look around, it’s the only thing. now do try and grow.”
So when the Big Sun woke up the next day, and said “Good morning” to everyone, Silky thought that she would say “Good - morning” to him, so she took a long breath and gave herself quite a stretch. In doing that she knocked the raindrop from her head.
“O, dear me!” she cried. “Did I hurt you?” she said to the raindrop.
“I don’t know that you did,” answered the drop, “but I must go on my way, for it is important that I cover those tiny seams on the rose leaf so that it may grow.”
With that the raindrop slipped along the petal of a ladybird beetle and away.
Another raindrop now stood on Silky’s head, and then a little girl, playing near by, lifted the seedling on her finger, for the raindrops could not roll off that way.
“Yes, I do feel quite different today from what I did yesterday,” said Silky. “I think I will try to grow now.”
So she took another long breath and for the first time felt that the sunlight was good for her. Now there came a warm breeze which passed all over her, saying, “A little sunshine, a little rain, a little rest, will make my periodic growth never in vain.”
So Silky nodded her head to the soft little zephyr that wanted to play with her, and she grew and grew.
Then a tiny boy, let out of a school hard by, ran from his father and mother’s window to feel Silky’s leaves, saying, “How glistening bright they look today!”
And Silky was glad to hear that for she knew she was growing and growing.
“There, Good-day!” said the sunbeam.
“Thanks for waking me up,” said Silky.
“And have you fresh air cooled?” asked the rain.
“Yes, I want to always feel so well,” Silky answered, and she continued to play and sing and be merry under the warm, dripping sunshine till her glad colors grew brighter than the happiest rainbow.
Then she opened out her tiny ruffled dress, for she couldn’t help hoping that some good friend would come to take her to the palace of the sun or the Big Moon, and to places far, far away in the sky. But every day came to her as it was, sunshine, rain, wind, and even snow, day after day.
“Oh,” she sighed, “if I only had strength to lift my head up, up yonder where the birds are swinging in the branches! But, no, I’ll try and grow, so there is nothing to grumble about after all.”
In the days to come Silky’s stem grew stronger and brighter. Her tiny buds turned into scarlet blossoms, and then her head was as high as the birds’ nests round her, although Silky did not have the color of a flowerless bramble bush but of a butterfly more beautiful than anything we know.
“Children, you ought all to learn a little lesson from this, and always remain courageous to follow on your destinies, wherever they may lead you.”