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In the early dawn, a young gardener was pruning his trees and shrubs2. He had one choice3 currant4 bush which had gone too much to wood. He feared therefore that it would produce little, if any, fruit.
Accordingly, he trimmed5 and pruned the bush and cut it back. In fact, when he had finished, there was little left but stumps6 and roots.
Tenderly he considered what was left. It looked so sad and deeply hurt. On every stump there seemed to be a tear where the pruning knife had cut away the growth of early spring. The poor bush seemed to speak to him, and he thought he heard it say:
“O, how could you be so cruel to me; you who claim to be my friend, who planted me and cared for me when I was young, and nurtured me and encouraged me to grow? Could you not see that I was rapidly responding to your care? I was nearly half as large as the trees across the fence, and might soon have become like one of them. But now you’ve cut my branches back; the green, attractive leaves are gone, and I am in disgrace7 among my fellows.”
The young gardener looked at the weeping bush and heard its plea8 with sympathetic understanding. His voice was full of kindness as he said, “Do not cry; what I have done to you was necessary that you might be a prize currant bush in my garden. You were not intended to give shade or shelter by your branches. My purpose when I planted you was that you should bear fruit. When I want currants, a tree, regardless of its size, cannot supply the need.”
“No, my little currant bush, if I had allowed you to continue to grow as you had started, all your strength would have gone to wood; your roots would not have gained a firm hold, and the purpose for which I brought you into my garden would have been defeated. Your place would have been taken by another, for you would have been barren9. You must not weep; all this will be for your good; and some day, when you see more clearly, when you are richly laden with10 luscious11 fruit, you will thank me and say, ‘Surely, he was a wise and loving gardener. He knew the purpose of my being, and I thank him now for what I then thought was cruelty.’”