The seed that was not afraid of fire.

"The surface may catch fire, but what is deeply rooted, fire cannot reach."

An old gardener lived on a hillside.

He was not famous, he did not write books about the earth, but he knew how the soil breathes.

One summer there was a drought.

The grass turned yellow, the wind was hot, and one day the hillside caught fire.

People ran.

With buckets, shouting, and despair.

The gardener did not run.

He just stood there, looking at the fire.

"Aren't you afraid?" they asked him.

"That's enough." The old man bent down, took a handful of earth in his hand, and showed them the dark crumbs.

"The seed is deeper," he said. "The flame only touches the surface."

The hillside was black the next day.

The smell of smoke, ash, silence.

People mourned the green.

The old gardener just waited.

After weeks, tiny green dots appeared from the ground.

At first, barely visible.

Then they grew stronger.

The ashes fed them.

The fire cleared the space.

The seed did not die.

He just waited.

A young boy, who had been terrified of everything until then, asked the old man:

- How did you know that everything would not end?

The old man smiled.

- Because the earth does not live from the surface.

But from what is beneath it.

Years later, the boy himself became a gardener.

And when one day his land caught fire, he did not look at the fire.

But at the depth.

And he understood: Peace is not the absence of danger, but the knowledge that what is truly alive does not burn.