Growing Good Corn

There once was a farmer who grew award-winning corn. Each year he entered his corn in the state fair where it won a blue ribbon.

        One year a newspaper reporter interviewed him and learned something interesting about how he grew it. The reporter discovered that the farmer shared his seed corn with his neighbors.

        "How can you afford to share your best seed corn with your neighbors when they are entering corn in competition with yours each year?" the reporter asked.

        "Why sir," said the farmer, "didn't you know? The wind picks up pollen from the ripening corn and swirls it from field to field. If my neighbors grow inferior corn, cross-pollination will steadily degrade the quality of my corn. If I am to grow good corn, I must help my neighbors grow good corn."

        He is very much aware of the connectedness of life. His corn cannot improve unless his neighbor's corn also improves.

        So it is with our lives. Those who choose to live in peace must help their neighbors to live in peace. Those who choose to live well must help others to live well, for the value of a life is measured by the lives it touches. And those who choose to be happy must help others to find happiness, for the welfare of each is bound up with the welfare of all.

        The lesson for each of us is this: if we are to grow good corn, we must help our neighbors grow good corn.

        "It is possible to give away and become richer! It is also possible to hold on too tightly and lose everything. Yes, the liberal man shall be rich! By watering others, he waters himself."

The Dream

He gently opened his eyes and the warm sun beat upon his face. He lay among the soft caress of the grass and a gentle wind embraced him. His father sat underneath a tree a few feet way beside the babbling brook.

        "You are awake," his father smiled.

        "I fell asleep dad."

        "You did my son."

        "I had a dream dad."

        His father rose and sat beside him. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

        "It was so real dad. I dreamt of missiles falling from the sky and little kids, even younger than I getting killed and maimed. The world was in a bad state. Millions were poor dad, not even with enough to eat. There were homeless people and destitute. There were huge storms and hurricanes and all types of disasters happening. People were fighting all of the time – over land, possessions, oil and money. Rainforests were dying dad and animals of all types were in danger and the earth was actually heating up! And I dreamt of growing up in this world and I was having happy times and sad times. And I lived a life dad. I did! I had a wife and kids and it was crazy fast you know. Everything went so quickly. And I felt so much. I was scared, full of joy, there was fear and hope. And so many times I felt helpless. And a lot of the time I felt so lonely. Worst of all dad, I didn't know where you were. I kinda knew you were there somewhere and I kept calling out for you. In fact sometimes I gave up hope and told myself that you didn't exist at all. But deep down I had a feeling you were somewhere. As I grew older I stopped searching for you out there and started looking within. Which was strange really but I kinda felt you were a part of me dad just as I was a part of you. It was full on dad and then I just woke up!"

        His father looked at him with love in his wise eyes. "That’s some dream son!"

        "How long was I asleep dad?"

        "Mmmmmm perhaps 5 minutes... not much more."

        "Wow! All of that in 5 minutes?"

        The son looked knowingly at his dad for awhile.

        "Dad that was my first dream."

        "I know son... and your last... if you so choose."

        "Dad?"

        "Yes my son?"

        "Did you know I was dreaming?"

        "Why yes, of course."

        The son reflected on this for a moment.

        "So dad, during the bad parts of the dream did you know I was suffering?"

        "My son, you may have appeared to be suffering in the dream but were always perfectly safe with me here."

        "You could have woken me?"

        "I could, but I didn't. You would have woken with a start. It would have been a little frightening for you that way. You gently came out of the dream yourself. You choose to enter the dream state. It is best if you choose to exit."

        The son stretched out on the grass.

        "Dad?"

        "Yes my son."

        "I love you."

        "I know, my child. We are love."

        - Diarmuid Cronin