son?” said the boy’s mother. “that way he might be able to tell you how he looked after his tree because you won’t listen to me”.
the next day the boy went to see the old man, who was once again in his garden near his tree. “why is my tree tiny and pathetic when my friend’s is big and has medals on it?” he asked the man. “sit down and listen, son”, said the old man. the boy sat down near the tree and gazed up at the branches above.
“when i was as young as you”, said the old man, “i found a tiny golden seed in a very dark 