There is a special kind of magic that happens when a child walks into a farm. It is not loud or dramatic. It is gentle—felt in the soft crumble of soil in their palms, the surprise of finding a tiny weed hiding beside their plant, and the quiet pride they feel when they realise, “I am growing something.”

On the third session of our Seeds to Vegetables program, that magic unfolded once again.

Our little farmers arrived at the farm with bright eyes. This week, the focus was simple: nurturing what they had begun. And like the best lessons in nature, the morning offered them exactly what they were ready for.

The children began with their activity books, reflecting on what they had done in the previous sessions. These pages are not worksheets—they are mirrors. They encourage observation, curiosity, and a deeper understanding of the living world they are becoming a part of. As they drew, wrote, and shared, we saw something beautiful: they were beginning to think like gardeners.

Next came the heart of the morning—Jeevamrutham, the natural microbial tonic they had learned to prepare last week. Children carried it like treasure and poured it around their young plants, watching it disappear into the soil. This is what nourishment looks like, they realised—not from a bottle on a store shelf, but from ingredients that come straight from nature and return to it.

Then it was time for watering. Some children poured gently, like rain. Others poured enthusiastically, like a monsoon. All of them understood one thing clearly: nothing grows without care.

One of the highlights of the day was the harvesting of Gongura. To a child, harvesting is pure thrill. It is the moment nature speaks back: “Here is your reward.” As they proudly held up their green bundles, the joy on their faces reminded us that children do not need screens or stimulation—they need purpose.

The children also rolled up their sleeves for weeding. At first, they didn’t quite understand why it was necessary. But as we showed them how weeds compete with their plants for sunlight and soil nutrients, something clicked. They began removing them patiently, almost protectively. This was stewardship in action.

And then came the final lesson of the session—composting. By the end of the morning, the farm looked different. But more importantly, the children did. Their hands were muddy, their hearts were full, and their understanding of nature had grown a little deeper.