The social worker looked after abandoned small children in his institute.

Every day he bathed the helpless kids tenderly. He fed them with his own hands gently. His heart filled with pleasure as they milled around him.

One day he had to go for an errand. He asked the brightest of them to take charge for the half an hour he would not be around.

On returning he found the boy excited hopping on one foot, eager to tell him something. A patron had come with fruits as he usually did. He asked the boy if they needed anything else. The boy had suggested bringing them some seeds and equipment. They had a bare patch where they could all grow some fruits and vegetables for themselves.

The social worker was furious. He exploded, “Who told you to be over smart? What if one of you hurt yourself with a garden shovel? What about the insects and worms these plants would attract? Would you like a snake to make its home here? Why could you not stick to taking the fruits?”

He stared the boy in the eye, “Do you want this place to shut down and all of you again thrown into the streets?”

He then started sobbing, “I am only trying to help you. Why do you all make it so difficult for me? Why don’t anyone of you understand?”

The boy stood, ashamed, guilty and frightened, looking at his feet.