The seeds we plant do not always bear the fruit we expect. During a visit to a palmary to plant poverty grass, I met a Fremen youth named Stilgar — notable in both height and the scars accrued in what cannot be more than sixteen years of life. Yet it was not his martial prowess that impressed me, but his natural aptitude for leadership.
I delegated more work to Stilgar and observed. His intuitive ability to organize the workers reminded me of nothing so much as the synergistic dance of ants communing through silent chemical cadence. He will only grow as a leader with time and experience.
I’m considering asking him to accompany me, as my assistant, on my next visit to Sietch Tabr. The fact that I have written this all out indicates I have already made my decision. When something unexpected but promising emerges from our garden, we cultivate it.