Arjuna had heard the great secret. His face was bright with it. "Krishna," he said eagerly, "this is so wonderful — I want to tell everyone! Every soldier, every king, every traveller on the road!"

Krishna held up a gentle hand. "Wait, my friend. There is a way to keep a treasure, and it is not by scattering it on the ground."

He bent down and picked up a handful of seeds that a passing farmer had spilled near the chariot wheel.

"Imagine a farmer," he said, "with seeds as precious as these. If he throws them on bare rock, what happens?"

"Nothing," said Arjuna. "They dry up and the birds take them."

"And if he throws them into soil that does not want them, soil that has closed itself, hard and proud?"

"The same. Nothing grows."

"Just so," said Krishna. "This teaching is a living seed. It needs ground that is ready. Give it to someone who will make no effort at all, who lets every good thing slip through lazy fingers — it withers. Give it to someone with no love in their heart — it finds nowhere to take root. Give it to someone who does not even wish to listen — they will not hear a word of it. And give it to someone who only wants to mock and sneer at Me —" he let the seeds fall — "and they will trample it underfoot and laugh."

Arjuna looked at the seeds scattered in the dust. "So I should keep it secret?"

"Not secret," said Krishna. "Careful. There is a difference. A mother does not hide bread from her child, but she does not force it into the mouth of one who clamps his lips shut and turns away. Watch for the ready heart. Watch for the one who listens, who loves, who is willing to try. To that one, give everything. Hold nothing back."

He pressed one good seed into Arjuna's palm and closed his fingers over it.

"Guard the seed," he said. "Then, when you find the soft and waiting earth, plant it with both hands. That is how a treasure is kept — by giving it only where it can grow."