The Parable of the Seed

One thing I’ve heard lately, and the other I’ve read, have given me pause to think on destiny, on the potential of the human being. Last night as I was driving, I heard a small snippet of a talk show, where a man named Muhammad Yunus was being interviewed. Mr Yunus received the 2006 Nobel Peace Prize for his work bringing micro-loans to people living in poverty in Bangladesh. My destination was only five minutes from home so unfortunately I didn't hear much, but the small bit I did hear was truly profound. His story is long and one can easily look up his info on the web, so I will only say what I heard. Over 30 years ago, he spoke with a banker about loaning money to the poor to help them to go to school, to start businesses, and so forth. This banker told him that you don’t loan money to the poor, they won’t repay, they are born poor, and they will always be poor. Mr. Yunus he set out to effect change. He told a little story about a seed. He said, “People are like seeds; if you take a perfect Bonsai seed and plant it in a flower pot, it will grow to perhaps a meter, then it will stop.” The attitude of the people in his country would be to blame the seed, to say something must have been wrong with it, but there was nothing wrong with the seed, it was perfectly good. It just could not grow because of the pot it was in. If it were to be planted in a forest, it would grow to immense height and be beautiful. He went on, “It is the same with people; these bonds of poverty are like the flower pot, keeping the poor from ever becoming their full potential.” I wish I could repeat what he said with as much eloquence. He talked about the human potential, and how the person born on the street and the person born in a palace are equally smart, equally with the potential to create and become something wonderful. The end of his story was that he started a bank to loan money to the poor, and there are now 7 million borrowers, among them doctors and engineers, whose parents and grandparents were illiterate, never expected to become anybody worthwhile. He talked about how poverty is man-made, that humans all have incredible potential within themselves, it is governments and rulers who keep people down. There is a great desire to have a peasant class, a slave class. We Americans are no better. We want our cheap goods, our $100 TVs, our $5 t-shirts. Sad, really sad, considering that we should know better.
This morning as I read Lés Miserables, this idea came again. Here is the passage:
“(England) believes in hereditary right, in hierarchy. This people, surpassed by none in might and glory, values itself as a nation, not as a people. So much so that as a people, they subordinate themselves willingly, and take a Lord for a head. Workmen, they submit to being scorned; soldiers, they submit to whippings. We remember that at the battle of Inkerman a sergeant who, so it seems, had saved the army, could not be mentioned by Lord Raglan, since the English military hierarchy did not permit any hero below the rank of officer to be mentioned in a report.”
This reminded me of my sister who, while living in London 150 years after Hugo wrote that last passage, bought for herself an expensive pair of shoes. Her roommate was appalled and told my sister that she should not be wearing those shoes, as they were above her station in life. As completely foreign as this idea is to so many of us in the USA, it made absolute sense to this Briton, for whom you are born in a certain class and there you stay. It is worth noting that although there is much in that British hierarchy way of thinking, which still in these days holds the Queen and the wealthy in the highest regard, there is also much progressive thought that comes out of England. I am reminded of Charlotte Mason and her belief that, “Children are born persons”. In that simple statement is a really huge thought, a completely new and different approach to viewing humanity. With the proper (equal) treatment and support, all people, like seeds, can grow to their full potential. I am indeed humbled and honored to be the caretaker of two little “seeds” myself, and I must see to it that they receive all the nourishment they deserve. A lofty responsibility indeed, being a homeschooling mom, lofty indeed.