Once upon a time, there was a village where every child was given a tiny garden.

Some gardens grew roses.

Some grew carrots.

Some grew apple trees.

Some grew sunflowers taller than the children themselves.

Every morning the children watered their gardens and watched them grow.

There was only one rule in the village:

"You may look at the fruit, but only the King may look at the seeds."

Most children thought that was a very strange rule.

"What does it mean?" they often asked.

But nobody seemed to know.

One day Toby was playing near his garden when he saw his friend Lucy walk past without waving.

Toby felt a lump in his throat.

"Lucy didn't wave," he thought to himself.

That night Toby sat in his garden thinking.

Soon he said to himself:

"I know why Lucy didn't wave."

The next morning he told everyone what he thought:

"Lucy thinks she's better than me."

Lucy overheard him.

"What?" she cried.

"I don't think that at all!"

"Then why didn't you wave?" asked Toby.

Lucy looked surprised.

"I was carrying water buckets and trying not to spill them!"

Toby stared.

"Oh."

That evening the King stopped by Toby's garden.

"What did you learn today?" asked the King.

Toby kicked at the dirt.

"I thought I knew why Lucy did something."

The King smiled.

"And did you?"

"No."

The King pointed to a sunflower.

"What could you see?"

"The flower."

"And what could you not see?"

"The seed."

The King nodded.

"You may see the flower, Toby.  Only I see the seed."

A few days later a traveling salesman arrived.

He carried shiny silver glasses.

"These are Heart-Seeing Glasses!" he announced.

"They let you know exactly why everyone does what they do."

The children were amazed.

"I'll take a pair!" shouted one.

"So will I!" shouted another.

Soon everyone was wearing Heart-Seeing Glasses.

And immediately problems began.

Ben forgot to bring Anna's book.

"He doesn't care about me," said Anna.

Rachel tripped during a race.

"She wanted attention," someone whispered.

Eli sat quietly during lunch.

"He's mad at everybody."

"No, he's selfish."

"No, he's proud."

"No, he's jealous."

The village became noisy.

Nobody listened anymore.

Everyone explained everyone else.

The more certain the children became, the more unhappy they grew.

One afternoon the King gathered all the children beneath a giant oak tree.

"Bring your glasses," he said.

The children arrived wearing them proudly.

The King held up a walnut.

"What is inside?"

"A tree!" shouted one child.

"Maybe," said another.

The King smiled.

"Can you see it?"

"No."

"Can you prove it?"

"No."

The King cracked open the walnut.

Inside was a tiny seed.

Then he said:

"You can see the walnut.  You cannot see the future tree."

The children nodded.

Then he held up the silver glasses.

"These glasses tell you that because you see an action, you also know the reason behind it."

The children nodded again.

"Do they work?" asked the King.

Slowly the children shook their heads.

"No."

The King continued:

"Only One sees every seed.  Only One sees every heart.  Only One knows every reason."

The children knew who He meant.

At the edge of the village stood two enormous trees.

One was called the Tree of Knowing.

The other was called the Tree of Trusting.

Whenever the children walked near the Tree of Knowing, they heard whispers.

"You know why she did that."

"You know what he meant."

"You know what's in their heart."

The whispers made children feel powerful.

As if they knew secrets.

As if they could see what nobody else could see.

The Tree of Trusting whispered differently.

"Ask questions."

"Listen first."

"Be patient."

"Leave room for surprises."

"The King knows hearts better than you."

The children noticed something.

The Tree of Knowing made them suspicious.

The Tree of Trusting made them peaceful.

The King gathered the children once more.

This time he gave each child an invisible backpack.

"What goes inside?" they asked.

The King smiled.

"Stories."

"What kind of stories?"

"The stories you tell yourselves about other people."

The children looked confused.

The King explained.

"When Ben forgets your book, what story do you put in the backpack?"

Anna answered:

"He doesn't care about me."

The King nodded.

"Maybe."

Then he asked:

"Or maybe he forgot?"

Anna blinked.

"Maybe."

The King smiled again.

"When Lucy doesn't wave, what story goes in the backpack?"

Toby answered:

"She thinks she's better than me."

"Maybe," said the King.

"Or maybe her arms are full of water buckets."

The children laughed.

Soon they understood.

Sometimes the event was real.

But the story they attached to it was only a guess.

The King took the children to a cottage.

The cottage had one window and one locked door.

Through the window they could see a table, a lamp, and a chair.

"What can you see?" asked the King.

"The room," said the children.

"What can you not see?"

"What is behind the door."

The King nodded.

"The fruit is the window."

"The heart is the door."

The children thought carefully.

Then Toby said:

"So I can talk about what I saw through the window.

But I shouldn't pretend I've been behind the door."

The King's eyes twinkled.

"Exactly."

One day a girl named Emma came to the village square.

She was upset.

"My feelings got hurt," she said.

Immediately several children spoke up.

"I know why you're upset."

"You're too sensitive."

"No, you're insecure."

"No, you're just angry."

The King raised his hand.

Silence filled the square.

Then he turned to Emma.

"What happened?"

Emma explained.

The King listened carefully.

Only after listening did he ask:

"And how did that make you feel?"

Finally he asked:

"What can we learn together?"

That evening the children noticed something.

The King never rushed to explain Emma.

He listened to her first.

Years later the children were older and wiser.

One day Toby asked the King:

"Why are You the only One allowed to see the seeds?"

The King walked him through the gardens.

Some seeds had been planted in tears.

Some in joy.

Some in fear.

Some in courage.

Some children had forgotten why they planted them.

Some did not even understand their own hearts.

The King knelt beside a rosebush.

Then He said:

"If people cannot fully see their own seeds, how can they fully see someone else's?"

Toby nodded slowly.

That made sense.

And from that day on, whenever the children saw strange fruit in someone's garden, they remembered:

They could see the flower.

But only the King could see the seed.

They could see the window.

But only the King could see behind the door.

So they learned to ask questions.

They learned to listen.

They learned to love.

And whenever they were tempted to say:

"I know what's in their heart,"

they remembered the King's words:

"You may look at the fruit.

Leave the seeds to Me."