Two seeds lay side by side in the fertile spring soil.
The first seed said, I want to grow! I want to send my roots deep into the soil beneath me, and thrust my sprouts through the earth's crust above me…. I want to unfurl my tender buds like banners to announce the arrival of spring… I want to feel the warmth of the sun on my face and the blessing of the morning dew on my petals!
And so she grew.
The second seed said, I am afraid. If I send my roots into the ground below, I don't know what I will encounter in the dark. If I push my way through the hard soil above me I may damage my delicate sprouts…. what if I let my buds open and a snail tries to eat them? And if I were to open my blossoms, a small child may pull me from the ground. No, it is much better for me to wait until it is safe.
And so she waited.
A yard hen scratching around in the early spring ground for food found the waiting seed and promptly ate it.
MORAL OF THE STORY: Those of us who refuse to risk and grow get swallowed up by life.
中文：
兩顆種子并排躺在春天肥沃的土壤里。
第一顆種子說：“我要成長。我要把根深深扎入土壤;我要用芽頂穿堅(jiān)硬的地殼… 我要伸展柔嫩的蓓蕾，像旗幟一樣宣告春天的到來… 我要感受太陽照在臉上的溫暖，接受花瓣上晨露的祝福!”
于是，第一顆種子不斷成長著。
第二顆種子說：“我很害怕。如果我把根深扎入土壤，不知道黑暗之中會(huì)遇到什么;如果我沖破堅(jiān)硬的土地，那脆弱的芽可能會(huì)受損傷… 如果我舒展花蕾，蝸牛要吃掉它們可怎么辦呢?如果我綻放花朵，小孩兒可能會(huì)把我拔起。不，我還是等安全了再那么做比較好。”
于是，第二顆種子就等啊等啊。
一只母雞正在院子里刨著早春的泥土找食吃，發(fā)現(xiàn)了正等在那兒的第二顆種子，一下子就把她吞了下去。
