sowers

“Even though you don’t talk,” said Little Salt’s abuelo, “I hope you will always ask preguntas, questions.”

It was early morning.

Little Salt walked with shoeless feet through the turned earth.

The abuelo’s hands were wrapped around an old, splintered, rusty hoe.

Big drops of sweat fell from his forehead as he hoed away the weeds between and around tomato plants.

“Es algo bueno, it’s a good thing, asking questions, mi nieto.

Questions move the world forward, like we’re moving forward down these long, long rows of tomatoes.

Questions turn the world upside down, like the hoe is turning the weeded ground into helpful soil.

Questions are like the seeds we planted in these rows. 

It takes a long time for a tomato to come from a seed, like it takes a long time to discover answers to the important questions for the world. 

But seeds change to food that feeds people and all living things.

And questions change to answers that can make the world a better place. 

For everyone.

For everything.

Even for you and me.

Keep on asking questions, Little Salt.

If not with words, then with your life.”

Little Salt whistled a beautiful tune to show that he understood his abuelo.

They walked on, they worked on, silently, questioningly, together.