‎Power, Restraint, and the Tree‎

We often label what we do not understand as dangerous, but what if the purpose of restriction is revelation?

‎

‎The Forbidden Tree - as it is called by all - stood in the center of the village, majestic, and full of fruit that looked good for food. It is glossy, golden, and sweet-scented, but no one dared to touch it.

‎

‎“It is sacred,” the elders warned. “To eat of it is to die.” No one asked what kind of death it was. Fear was enough.

‎

‎Years passed. The tree blossomed, bore fruit, and dropped them to the earth, where they rotted. Still, no one dared question why beauty could be dangerous except for Evari. She didn’t want to eat the fruit. She wanted to understand the why.

‎

‎“Why give us a tree we cannot taste?”

‎

‎“Because power lies in restraint,” they told her.

‎

‎But Evari had learned: unexamined restraint becomes inherited fear. So one morning, she knelt by the tree—not to pluck, but to ponder. In that quiet moment, something shifted. The ground trembled slightly. A fruit fell—not in warning, but invitation.

‎

‎She didn’t eat it. She watched it. Waited. And then, the fruit cracked open—not with thunder, but with light. Inside, not just pulp and seed, but words—ancient truths, lessons not meant for the mouth, but for the heart.

‎

‎The fruit was never about hunger. It was about timing.

‎

‎The village had avoided the tree. Evari had questioned it. In doing so, revelation came—not by breaking the rule, but by seeking its reason.

‎

‎Moral: What have you avoided instead of questioning? Not all restrictions are prisons—some are doors waiting for the right knock.

‎

‎#TheTree #PowerAndRestraint #RevelationNotRebellion #QuestionDeeply #QedeMoments

‎