Farming

The farm itself was modest, starkly small compared to the vast empty spaces surrounding it. The soil looked hard and unyielding, with only a few small seedlings poking through here and there. Very few people were working the land, each person visibly struggling with the tough earth but persisting nonetheless.

At the field, they were introduced to the head farmer, an elderly woman named Mrs. Lin. Despite her advanced age, Mrs. Lin carried herself with a resilient, windswept vigor that spoke of years battling the elements. She greeted them with a nod, her gaze taking in the siblings with an appraising eye.

"Welcome," Mrs. Lin said, her voice rough but kind. "We're glad for the help. Don't worry, we'll start you off slow, teach you how to manage the soil and care for the plants. It's tough work, but you'll grow into it."

As Leon surveyed the field, noting how small and underutilized it seemed given the expansive unused land around, he felt a mix of relief and resolve. Here, in the midst of these modest seedlings, was a place where he could start to make a difference, where he and Mei could work toward securing their future—one small, determined step at a time

Mrs. Lin ushered Leon and Mei through the small, enclosed farming area, her voice carrying a mix of warmth and firmness as she began explaining the basics of farming to them. She stood, a slight figure against the rough, unyielded soil of Fangwood Hamlet, a smile playing at her lips, softened by years but toughened by the same measure.

"Alright, kiddos, listen up," she started, brushing her hands on her apron. "Farming ain't like picking berries or catching fish. It's about helping the earth give us what we need to eat. Think of it like this: we're helping the ground wake up and do its job."

She stooped down, picking up a clump of the hard soil, letting it crumble through her fingers. "This ground here, it's stubborn—doesn't want to let go of what it holds. Our job is to be even more stubborn. We've got to coax it, treat it right, and then, it'll feed us."

Leon and Mei watched intently as Mrs. Lin walked over to a small patch of land that had been somewhat cleared. "First thing we do is break the ground open. This is called tilling. We turn it over and over, make it soft. It's tough because this soil is like the old crusty bread at the bottom of the bin—hard and uninviting. But with enough elbow grease, it'll soften."

She showed them the tools they would use—simple spades and rakes, nothing too complex. "Now, these tools aren't fancy, but they're what we've got. We use them to dig and move the earth around, make it nice and loose, so the roots of our plants can breathe and grow."

Mrs. Lin then moved to a row of small, struggling seedlings. "After we've got the soil ready, we plant these little babies," she gestured to the seedlings. "Each one of these could turn into a plant that will give us food—be it veggies or grains. We plant them in rows, see, so they each have enough room to grow without fighting each other for space."

She paused, ensuring the children followed along. "Water is the next big step. Plants get thirsty, just like you. But not too much! Just like you shouldn't drink all your water at once, neither should they. We give them drinks little and often. And that's something you can help with, even if the spade is too heavy for now."

"The sun does its part too," she continued, pointing upwards to the clear sky. "It helps the plants grow strong and healthy. But we can't control the sun, so we work on what we can control—like pulling out weeds that try to steal the food from our plants and making sure bugs don't eat them before we do."

Finally, Mrs. Lin's tone grew a bit more serious, but her eyes remained kind. "This is all new to us here in Fangwood. We're learning as we go. Each day, the farm will teach us something new, and we've got to be good students, okay?"

Leon and Mei nodded, the importance of their new role settling in. Mrs. Lin's informal yet stern explanation painted a clear picture: farming was a slow and steady challenge, a new way of life that required patience and resilience, but one that promised to sustain them if they could master its demands.

Leon watched intently as Mei followed Mrs. Lin's instructions, gradually getting the hang of tilling the tough soil. His turn came soon after, and he approached the task with a mix of eagerness and nervousness. Taking the spade from Mei, Leon gripped it with small, determined hands and tried to imitate the motions he had just learned.

His first attempt was nearly a disaster. The spade barely made a dent in the hard earth; instead of slicing into the soil, it bounced off, almost throwing him off balance. He tried again, this time putting more weight behind it, but his technique was off, causing the spade to skid sideways, scraping awkwardly across the surface.

Mrs. Lin and Mei didn't show any sign of irritation or disappointment. Instead, Mrs. Lin stepped closer, her voice calm and encouraging. "It's alright, Leon. It's tough for everyone at first. Let's go through it step by step again," she said gently. She guided his hands along the spade's handle, positioning his feet for better leverage. "You need to use your whole body, not just your arms. Let's try to push it down together."

With Mrs. Lin's guidance and Mei watching supportively, Leon gave it another go. This time, with Mrs. Lin's hands over his, guiding the spade, he managed to drive it into the soil. "Now, use your foot to push it deeper," Mrs. Lin instructed. Leon pressed down with all his might, feeling the spade finally penetrate the tough earth. He leaned back, using his weight to lever the soil up and over. The clump of dirt broke free, turning over with a satisfying crumble.

It was hard work, and Leon felt the strain in his muscles. He realized just how demanding this task was, using his entire body to manage the spade. Each scoop of soil required all his effort, and he had to use the full length of the spade handle to gain enough leverage.

Over time, and with repeated practice under Mrs. Lin and Mei's patient tutelage, Leon began to improve. His initial struggles turned into more confident motions, and though the work remained physically demanding, he started to feel a sense of achievement with each successful turn of the soil.

"This is good work, Leon," Mrs. Lin complimented after watching him manage a few more scoops on his own. "You're getting the hang of it. It's all about technique and using your body wisely."

Leon, tired but proud, nodded, feeling a new respect for the work and for the land itself. He realized that farming wasn't just about strength; it was about persistence and learning the right way to interact with the earth. Each scoop of soil he turned wasn't just labor; it was a contribution to their survival, a fundamental act of changing the land to sustain their lives.

Mrs. Lin wiped her brow, looking over the small expanse they had begun to cultivate. She turned to Leon and Mei, her expression serious yet tinged with understanding. "Kids, I know it's your first day, and you're still very young, but I need to ask you something important," she began, her tone more earnest than before.

"The village is in a dire state right now, and as you know, crops take time to grow. The faster we can get these seeds into the ground, the sooner we can harvest them." She surveyed the patch of soil they had worked on, considering the slow progress and the vast amount of work still ahead.

"I know it's a big ask, but do you think you could try to keep working until nightfall? Every bit of effort counts, and if we can extend our workday just a bit, it could make a big difference." Mrs. Lin's request hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their communal need.

Leon and Mei exchanged a look, understanding the urgency of their task. Tired as they were from their initial efforts, the importance of their work settled deeply with them. Leon, feeling a newfound sense of responsibility, nodded firmly before turning to look up at Mrs. Lin. "We'll do it. We'll stay till night," he said, his young voice determined.

Mei, equally resolute, added, "Yes, we can't let everyone down. Let's do as much as we can today." Her agreement reinforced their shared commitment, and Mrs. Lin's face softened, a mix of relief and pride coloring her expression.

"Thank you, both. This means a lot to all of us," Mrs. Lin said, her voice gentle yet full of gratitude. "Let's take it step by step, and I'll be right here with you. We'll break for a quick supper later, and then continue as long as we can before it gets too dark."

As the afternoon wore on, Leon and Mei, under Mrs. Lin's guidance, continued to till and prepare the soil, their initial awkwardness with the spade giving way to more confident strokes. They learned to pace themselves, taking shorter breaks to rest before returning to their tasks with renewed vigor. Mrs. Lin taught them how to properly space the seeds, ensuring each had enough room to grow, and demonstrated the depth each seed needed to be planted to optimize its chances for survival.

The sun began to dip towards the horizon, casting long shadows across the field. The siblings worked by the fading light, the urgency of their mission driving them forward. Every seed they planted was a potential lifeline, a small beacon of hope for the future. Their efforts, a testament to their resilience and dedication, stretched into the early evening, painting a picture of true commitment to their community's survival.

As dusk settled over the field, Leon and Mei, exhausted from their long day of labor, took stock of their achievements. Leon had managed to plant five seeds, while Mei, with a bit more precision, managed to plant thirteen. Despite their best efforts, both felt a twinge of disappointment when comparing their work to what an adult might have accomplished—usually between thirty to fifty seeds in a similar span of time.

Seeing their downcast expressions, Mrs. Lin quickly intervened, her voice both comforting and encouraging. "Hey, look at me, both of you," she said, kneeling down to meet their eye level. "You might feel like you haven't done much today, but that's not true at all. Remember, you're just starting out, and developing your muscles and stamina takes time, especially at your age."

She placed a gentle hand on each of their shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "Leon, planting five seeds on your very first day, especially when you're as young as you are, is impressive. And Mei, thirteen seeds is more than double that! You're both learning, and that's what counts. Don't underestimate the value of what you've done today."

Mrs. Lin's words brought a small smile to their faces, easing the disappointment they felt. "You've both shown great perseverance and hard work," she continued. "Farming isn't just about the number of seeds you plant; it's about the effort and heart you put into each one. These seeds," she gestured to the freshly tilled soil, "will grow, just like you will. And each day you'll get a little better, and you'll be able to do a little more."

Encouraged by Mrs. Lin's praise and understanding, Leon and Mei felt a renewed sense of purpose. They understood that their contributions, though small now, were steps toward greater achievements. They had started their journey in farming not just with physical labor, but with the cultivation of resilience and hope—qualities essential for the days ahead.

As they packed up their tools in the twilight, their spirits lifted by Mrs. Lin's comforting and motivational words, they were ready to come back the next day and continue their work, knowing that each small effort was a building block for both their growth and the survival of their village.

Before they left the field for the day, Mrs. Lin called Leon and Mei over for one last chat. They trudged back, their energy spent but curious about what Mrs. Lin might have to say.

"Before you go, I've got a little secret to share with you two," Mrs. Lin began, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. She leaned in closer, lowering her voice as if to keep the secret just between them. "Our soil here, as tough as it is to work with, holds a special little mystery. Even though it's so hard and unforgiving, for some reason, plants grow much faster here than what the books say they should."

Leon and Mei looked at each other, their interest piqued. The struggles of the day seemed to lighten a bit with this revelation.

Mrs. Lin smiled, seeing their lifted spirits. "That's right. Despite the tough start, once the seeds settle in, they shoot up quicker than you might expect. It's as if the land makes up for its stubbornness by giving the plants an extra push once they're in."

She straightened up, patting the dirt off her hands. "So, if you come back tomorrow, I bet you'll be in for a little surprise. That's the magic of this place. It teaches us that hard work pays off, often in ways we don't anticipate."

Her words filled Leon and Mei with a newfound excitement for what was to come. The promise of seeing the fruits of their labor possibly sprouting sooner than expected gave them a reason to return with enthusiasm.

"Thank you, Mrs. Lin," Mei said, her voice full of gratitude and renewed energy.

"Yeah, thanks!" Leon chimed in, his earlier fatigue replaced by anticipation for the next day's potential surprise.