Anna frowned and returned her focus to the stem. With her second glance, she noticed two small leaves, like blades of grass, splitting from the central stem. One of the blades was green while the other was pale yellow.

Probably because the first blocks sun from the second, she thought.

“Good,” Mother Susana whispered.

At the base of the stem, she noticed a fuzzy web of roots that wound down into the rock, holding it in place and mining for food.

What does it find to eat? she wondered.

“Good. Now close your eyes. Go deeper.”

Anna closed her eyes. The image of the stem glowed inside her eyelids. Without any prompting, her mind traveled backward, to the time when the stem was merely a seed, deep in the belly of another plant. She saw how, when the wind rose, the seed was thrown into the air and tossed on erratic currents until it landed with a merciless thud against dry rock, not a speck of soil in sight. A locust clicked on a nearby ledge.

Would the insect eat the seed? she fretted.

“Good. Go deeper.”

Anna heard Susana speak, but the words felt more like vibrations than language. Her body, she realized, had moved to a different plane. She was no longer wrapped in the shell of Anna but joined with the entirety of the world. It felt like floating.

“Live yourself into the miracle of what you have chosen.”

Anna’s awareness jumped inside the seed itself. There she felt the hum and presence of life. Untapped life. Waiting to be born. Throbbing against the husk that contained it. From inside the seed, she heard a gentle pattering. After a moment, she realized it was the sound of raindrops. She felt the entire globe lurch as the seed rolled. Just before she turned upside down, she pulled her awareness back outside the seed and saw it floating on the tip of a tiny tongue of water. The water whisked the seed toward a crack in the rock and finally over the edge!

“Live into the miracle.”

Anna considered the impossibility of the seed’s situation. After its harrowing journey on top of the winds, after avoiding a hungry locust, it had fallen into a deep, dark crack. But the crease formed by the crack, she realized, acted like a cup to capture and hold water and soil. Soon she heard the crack of husk as the seed burst open beneath the water’s soft touch. From between its two halves, a pale gold shoot, impossibly tender, reached skyward, drawing water into its core to lift it … up … up … toward the light far above.

“Good, Anna,” Mother Susana whispered. She laid a hand on her knee.

Anna jolted as if wakened from a dream. When she opened her eyes, her vision was blurred.

“Have you seen?” Mother Susana asked.

Anna nodded. She felt strangely lightened. Peaceful. And whole.