The Silver Rosebush
Somewhere in Europe, what is now known as Southern France, in sight of the deep blue-green waters of the Mediterranean , well East of the fabled Pillars of Heracles, was a garden of Rosebushes owned by an obscure and excessively rich aristocrat of the numerous princedoms that littered the land of pre-feudal Europe. The finest garden of roses did he possess. Although there was a long drought and the people were thirsty, the prince of the land said: “Let them drink from the sea, save the fresh water for my roses.”
At the heart of the garden of red roses grew a silver rosebush. Not a sliver of red could be found on its branches. Soon the news of this strange event that grew nowhere in the known world spread far and wide.
Great academics and theologians of the time came to behold the wonder of this rare event. A silver rosebush, “What could it mean? Why not gold?”, as they examined it.
“Perhaps the prince has overfed the bush too much water”, said one of the academics.
“Or insufficient soil to sustain the color for normal roses”, said another.
“A spirit understanding of nature may be lacking”, said the theologian, while the alchemist added “You can’t grow silver from the soil, Its impossible.”
A young child from the thirsting village who lost his way wandered toward the academics examining the silver bush and asked “Will this be enough for a drink of water?”