The next morning, Walnut opened his eyes to find Turnip standing nearby, eagerly waiting. When Turnip saw him awake, he couldn’t contain his excitement. “Oh, Walnut! My dear Walnut! Thank goodness you're finally awake. I’ve been standing here for so long, waiting for you to answer the question I asked yesterday.”
Turnip paused for a moment, then continued “Do you remember what I asked you? I asked why you thanked me. I kept thinking about it, and no matter how I looked at it, I couldn’t find anything in that awkward moment that deserved thanks—unless there was something deeper I didn’t understand. Were you mocking me? Or were you simply unaware of what you were saying? Honestly, I’ve been spinning in circles, wondering about it all night. Just tell me the truth. And if you need more time to gather your thoughts, don’t worry—I won’t leave this spot. I’ll wait right here until you’re ready to answer.”
Turnip went on, his words tumbling out in a rush, full of energy and impatience. Walnut, realizing that Turnip had no intention of pausing, gently interrupted him with a smile:
“Once again, I thank you, dear Turnip.”
Turnip blinked in surprise. “What did you say, Walnut?”
With a calm, warm smile, Walnut repeated, “I said I thank you again—for coming all this way just to hear the answer to your question. Your effort is truly valuable, for it shows your sincere search for truth.”
Turnip’s eyes brightened. “Even that last sentence opened a door to a thousand new possibilities in my mind, dear Walnut. Please, tell me more. I can’t wait any longer.”
Walnut’s expression softened. “Dear Turnip, know this: Fantasy is one of the greatest obstacles on the path to truth. But there are two virtues that can free a plant from the trap of its own fantasies: trust, and the courage to speak.
You trusted me, and you asked your question directly. You spoke with courage.
I remember a time when you were tangled in your own thoughts. You didn’t trust me, and you lacked the courage to voice your doubts.”
Turnip, surprised and a bit overwhelmed, murmured, “You’re right. That’s so strange—I didn’t even notice the change in myself.”
Walnut nodded thoughtfully and continued, “Guessing is a natural function of the mind, but guesses are often unreliable. The mind is always ready to make assumptions, then layer new guesses on top of the old ones. But these assumptions are often based on fleeting feelings and are usually untrustworthy. Eventually, someone who relies on guesses becomes entangled in their own imagination and fantasies.
Not long ago, you repeated what Master Onion used to say. You only echoed his words, without ever truly hearing me. Back then, you didn’t trust me. But now you listen—and you understand. You’ve learned that not only is trust necessary, but also the courage to express your doubts.
Without trust, you wouldn’t have asked me your question. Without courage, you wouldn’t have voiced it. Instead, you would’ve stayed in the safety of your own assumptions, trusting your imagination more than my words.”
Turnip shook his head with regret. “You are right. I was weak and fearful. I don’t even know when I began to trust you or found the courage to speak.”
Walnut replied, “Trust is a precious virtue that has grown within you—but it didn’t appear overnight. The path to trust begins with doubt. You started with doubt. But not every doubt turns into certainty unless one walks the path of growth with sincerity. You’ve walked that path, even if you didn’t realize it. The name of that path is honesty. Had you not been honest, you would have wondered, ‘Why should I ask Walnut this question? Why would he tell me the truth?’
Those thoughts would have blocked your way, preventing you from seeking the truth. Without seeking, you couldn’t have learned to trust me. So the first step toward trust is honesty—honesty that springs from the heart.
I thanked you for your effort to turn doubt into certainty. You worked hard, using honesty, trust, and courage—not imagination or idle talk—to come to me and ask for the truth directly. Don’t you think that’s worth thanking you for?”
Turnip nodded, his face lighting up. “Yes. Now I see how important that was. My effort really did deserve thanks. Thank you, dear Walnut, for helping me understand.”
Overjoyed that he had managed to bring a smile to Walnut’s face, he allowed himself a quiet celebration—a gentle, heartfelt moment of triumph.
Meanwhile, Date, who had grown into a delicate little sapling, spoke softly, her voice tinged with sadness, “I feel so ashamed, dear Walnut.”
Then, unable to hold it in any longer, burst into tears.
Turnip turned to her with concern. “What’s wrong, Date? Why are you crying? Today is a day of joy—there’s no place for sadness! Didn’t you hear Walnut say how much I’ve grown? Why sit there weeping instead of dancing and celebrating with me? Aren’t you happy for my progress?”
Still in tears, Date turned to Walnut and said, “Dear Walnut, I feel so ashamed. I’m embarrassed that someone as wise and noble as you would thank us for something so small—something that was our duty all along. You thanked us for something so basic—just for not imagining and not arguing. But that was our responsibility, something we should’ve done without thinking.
That you would thank us for it shows how much we still need to grow—and how immature our spirits remain, which is simply a reflection of our own imperfect actions and behavior.”
Turnip, touched by Date’s words, said with a heavy heart, “You’re right, Date. Your words have shaken me. I didn’t realize how much I still had to learn.”
Walnut smiled gently. “Spiritual growth comes to each of us at the right time, Date.
Look at yourself. You’ve faced many challenges, and now you understand these deeper truths. It’s time for you to share your wisdom with others, just as I have shared mine with you.”
Turnip exclaimed eagerly, “I truly wish to work together with young Date, but there are times when I just can’t seem to understand her. She can be so strange and unpredictable.”
Walnut said. “The secret to a flourishing garden lies in the balance between the Turnip and the Date of that garden. Turnip is the garden’s earthly mind—rooted in the soil, aware of the needs of all the plants. Date, on the other hand, represents the heavenly mind—connected to divine knowledge and higher truths. When these earthly and heavenly parts work in harmony, earth and sky intertwine, and the Gardener and the Sun bestow their blessings upon that garden. And when a garden receives the love of both the Sun and its Gardener, it becomes—a sacred garden.”
