Tale#13: Bedtime Tales: Episode1: The Unsprouted Seed| Tuesday
You’re Meant to Grow in Your Own Way
The front door creaked open just past three. The sound of shoes kicking off and bags thudding to the floor broke the peaceful hum of the house.
Aymen wiped her hands on her apron as she stepped out of the kitchen.
Sara dropped her bag louder than usual. She walked past Aymen, barely mumbling a greeting.
Zayn, following close behind, gave a knowing shrug.
“She’s been like this since we left school.”
Aymen’s brows drew together softly.
“Sara, sweetheart?”
No answer. Sara walked straight to her room and shut the door—not harshly, but firmly.
Later, after lunch and Quran class, Aymen found Sara sitting by the window, knees pulled up to her chest, staring outside.
She sat beside her gently.
“Rough day?”
Sara hesitated, then looked away.
“Miss Chloe said Amira’s painting was the best in class.”
Aymen stayed quiet, waiting.
“Mine was nice too, Mama,” Sara continued, her voice low.
“I used the same colors. But she didn’t say anything about mine. Amira gets noticed every time.”
Her voice cracked.
Aymen put an arm around her.
“That must’ve really hurt your heart, hmm?”
Sara nodded. Her eyes shimmered, but the tears stayed in.
“I tried so hard,” she whispered.
Aymen kissed her temple.
“You don’t have to be like Amira to be special. But I want to show you something tonight. We’ll talk at bedtime.”
Night fell slowly. After dinner and warm showers, the house settled into its quiet rhythm. Aymen entered the kids’ room with two steaming glasses of milk.
Zayn was aligning his toy soldiers like a commander. Sara sat on her bed, hugging her favorite plush lion.
“How about a story?” Aymen asked, setting the glasses down.
Both nodded. Sara’s smile peeked out, just a little.
Aymen tucked the quilt under their chins and began:
“Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, there lived a kind king who had no children. He wanted to find the next ruler—not from the nobles, but from among the children of the land.
So he invited every child to the palace and handed each one a small seed.
‘Take this,’ he said, ‘plant it, care for it, and return in one month. I will choose my heir based on what you bring.’
The children were thrilled. One boy, Hamid, went home and planted his seed in the best pot he had. He watered it, gave it sunlight, and waited.
A week passed. Then two. Nothing.
His friends began bragging about their sprouts and flowers. Hamid said nothing, though his pot remained bare.
At the end of the month, the children returned to the palace with their pots—some bursting with tall plants, others with colorful blooms.
Hamid stood quietly, holding his empty pot.
The king walked down the line, examining each pot. When he reached Hamid, he paused.
‘What happened, my child?’ he asked.
Hamid looked down.
‘I did everything I could, Your Majesty. But nothing grew.’
The king smiled and raised Hamid’s hand.
‘This is the new heir!’
The crowd gasped.
‘You see,’ said the king, ‘the seeds I gave were cooked. They could never grow. The plants you see were all replacements. But Hamid was honest, patient, and brave enough to bring the truth.’
The room was still.
Zayn sat up, wide-eyed.
“So… he didn’t need a flower to be chosen?”
Aymen smiled.
“He just needed to be himself. Brave. Honest. Real.”
She turned to Sara with warmth in her eyes.
“You may not always get praised, my love. But that doesn’t erase the beauty of what you create, or the light Allah placed inside you. Amira has her light. You have yours.”
Sara’s eyes softened. Her voice was small.
“But what if people never notice it?”
Aymen held her hand.
“When you stay straight in life, when you’re brave and don’t fool others—then you’re truly chosen. Not just by people… but by Allah. And in time, people do recognize what’s real. That’s when your efforts start to bloom.”
She paused and added,
“But if you let jealousy grow in your heart, or try to be someone you’re not… then you become like that cooked seed—unable to grow, even if you’re in the best pot.”
Sara nodded slowly, absorbing every word.
Then Aymen recited:
“Do not wish for that by which Allah has made some of you exceed others... For men is a share of what they have earned, and for women is a share of what they have earned. And ask Allah of His bounty.”
(Surah An-Nisa 4:32)
She smiled and added:
“Allah does not look at your faces or your wealth, but He looks at your hearts and your deeds.”
(Sahih Muslim)
Sara hugged her plush lion tighter.
“Maybe… I’ll paint something totally different next time.”
Zayn grinned.
“Like a lion with a crown!”
Laughter filled the room.
Aymen kissed their cheeks, turned off the lamp, and whispered into the quiet:
“You were created to shine in your own way. Never forget that.”