Alberto and I just returned to the Americas after a few rich and abundant weeks in Europe.

We cherish the time we spent with our students, our office team, our friends, and even strangers—in different settings and in different countries. So grateful!

For me, one of the most exquisite moments of our journey unfolded in the Turkish countryside—in the valley of the legendary King Midas, to be precise—where we explored the timeless presence of the fertility goddess Cybele. Off the beaten path, behind large wooden doors, we discovered a small eatery run entirely by women who cultivated their own vegetables in a lush, half–football-field-sized garden.

Not accustomed to foreign visitors, one of the women was especially curious about our journey. What could bring this couple from across the great waters all the way to her corner of the world? She sat with us while two others began to cook, and thankfully, our guide translated with deep sensitivity.

Once her curiosity was somewhat satisfied, she began sharing stories about her life, her gardens, and the way they prepared meals from their harvests—including delicious cheese made from their goats’ milk. It felt so refreshing to sit under a tree, listening to her lively voice and the rhythm of her country life.

Ancestral Seeds and Connection

She lived so close to the Earth, the same way her ancestors had, except that she owned a cell phone and a Facebook account. However, her face lit up when she started speaking about seeds. Suddenly, she stood up, disappeared for a moment, and returned carrying a basket of treasures.

“These,” she said, “are ancestral seeds—untouched by modern manipulation. They are life-sustaining… more precious than gold.”

She then became visibly moved when I told her about my gardens in Chile and how I too treasure ancestral seeds. In an instant, words dissolved into recognition as we looked into each other’s eyes. We embraced—two grandmothers from opposite sides of the world, bound by the same love for life. Across continents and languages, we understood that what we truly safeguard are not just seeds, but stories, memory, and continuity.

We agreed that these small grains hold the breath of our ancestors and the legacy for our children’s children.

Reflect on Your Own Seeds

Please, my friends, tell me: What are the “seeds” you are tending in your own life—the values, stories, or simple acts of love that will nourish the generations after you?

With love,
Marcela Lobos

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