Abstract

Seeds are our sacred ancestors. Ruining a seed means hurting your soul! My maternal grandparents lived in a small farming village in Korea when I was a five-year-old kindergartener. I visited my grandfather’s house almost every weekend. Both of my grandparents welcomed my visit; my coming was their great joy. I really loved to visit my grandfather’s house. My grandfather was a Confucian scholar and a farmer who believed farming is sacred work. From him, I began to learn my first lessons in foods and farming. Every year after harvest, my grandfather dried some seeds of bailey and corn for the next year. Once, while sitting on a straw mat used for drying bailey seeds, I played..