Plop! The little seed dropped into a tiny hole in the garden. Pigúiça covered the soil with her paws, gave it two pats on top, and sat down beside it with her eyes wide open. “Now it's going to turn into a flower,” she said.
She waited a minute. Nothing. She waited two. Nothing. She waited until Fofuxo arrived with a honey roll. “Hasn't the flower come up yet?” he asked.
“No. It's taking forever. Do you think the seed is sleeping?” “I think so,” said Fofuxo. “Seeds take a little nap before they grow.”
The next day, Pigúiça woke up and ran to the garden. Nothing. The soil looked exactly the same. The day after, the same thing. And the day after that.
She started to get impatient. She tapped her paw. She sighed deeply. She poked the soil with her nose, to check that everything was okay down there.
“Pigúiça,” said Fofuxo, “roots grow first, in the dark, where nobody sees. Only later comes the green.” “But I want to see it now!” “I know,” he said. “Waiting is hard. But can I tell you what helps?”
Pigúiça nodded. “The seed needs water. You can take care of it every day, and that way the wait feels less long.”
That's how Pigúiça got a job. Every morning, she went down to the stream that sparkled in the forest, with the low sun on the leaves. She touched the water with her paw, making little ripples. She filled a big leaf, folded like a cup, and walked back slowly, without spilling, to water the soil.
At first, she only thought about the flower. Then she started noticing other things. The bees buzzing by. Her own reflection in the water. The smell of the morning. The path back, which she knew by heart.
Seven days went by. Eight. Nine. On the tenth day, Pigúiça arrived with her little leaf full of water, and saw something small and green, with two round little leaves, pushing through the soil.
She stopped. She didn't shout. She didn't jump. She stood there, her heart pounding, very still, so as not to startle the little plant. “Hello,” she whispered. “You're here.” The little plant swayed a bit, as if saying good morning.
Fofuxo came up beside her, smiling. “It took a while, didn't it? But it came.” “It took a while,” said Pigúiça. “And it was good to wait. I saw so many things along the way.”
That night, before going to sleep, Pigúiça looked out the window. Down there, in the dark, the little plant was growing without a sound, just like her sleep, which was coming slowly.
“Good night, little plant,” she said. “Grow nice and tall. I'll grow while I sleep, too.” And she closed her eyes, and let time do its work.
