Once there were five peas in a pod. They were green, and the pod was green, so they believed the whole world must be green too—a natural conclusion. They grew in a row, warmed by the sun and washed clear by the rain. As they grew bigger, they became more thoughtful, feeling there must be something else for them to do.
"Are we to sit here forever?" asked one. "Shall we not become hard? I feel sure there is something outside."
Weeks passed, and the peas and pod turned yellow. "All the world is turning yellow," they said.
Suddenly, the pod was pulled off and slipped into a jacket pocket with others. "Now we shall soon be opened," they said eagerly.
"I wonder which of us will travel furthest," said the smallest pea.
"What is to happen will happen," said the largest.
With a crack, the pod burst open. The five peas rolled into bright sunshine, landing in a child's hand. "Fine peas for my pea-shooter!" said the boy. He shot the first one out.
"Now I am flying into the wide world! Catch me if you can!" it cried, and was gone.
"I intend to fly straight to the sun," said the second. "That is a pod that lets itself be seen." And away it went.
"We will sleep wherever we find ourselves," said the next two, "but we shall still roll onwards." They fell and rolled before being shot. "We shall go farther than the others."
"What is to happen will happen!" exclaimed the last pea as it was shot. It flew against an old board under a garret window and fell into a little crevice filled with moss and soft earth. The moss closed around it. "What is to happen will happen," it said to itself.
In the little garret lived a poor, industrious woman. At home lay her only daughter, delicate and weak, who had been bedridden for a year, seeming neither able to live nor die.
Spring came. One morning, as the mother left for work, the sick girl fixed her gaze on the window. "Mother, what is that little green thing peeping in? It moves in the wind."
The mother stepped to the window. "Oh! A little pea has taken root and put out green leaves. How did it get here? Now you have a little garden to amuse yourself." She moved her daughter's bed nearer the window.
That evening, the child said, "Mother, I believe I shall get well. The sun shone so warmly today, and the little pea thrives so well. I shall go out into the sunshine again."
"God grant it!" said the mother, though she doubted. She propped up the plant with a stick and tied a string for its tendrils to twine around. It grew visibly each day.
"Now really, here is a flower coming," said the mother one morning, beginning to hope. Her daughter had spoken more cheerfully and had raised herself to look at her little garden. A week later, the invalid sat by the open window for a whole hour, happy in the warm sunshine. Outside, the little plant bore a pink pea-blossom in full bloom. The little maiden bent down and gently kissed the delicate leaves. It was like a festival.
"Our heavenly Father Himself planted that pea to bring joy to you and hope to me," said the happy mother, smiling at the flower as if it were an angel.
But what of the other peas? The one that flew into the wide world fell into a roof gutter and ended in a pigeon's crop. The two lazy ones were also eaten by pigeons, so they were of some use. The fourth, which wanted to reach the sun, fell into a sink and lay in dirty water, swelling greatly.
"I am getting beautifully fat," it said. "I expect I shall burst. I am the most remarkable of all five." The sink confirmed this.
But the young maiden stood at the open garret window, with sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks. She folded her hands over the pea-blossom and thanked God.
"I," said the sink, "shall stand up for my pea."