17/09/2025
From the Roots to the Future: A Generational Reflection on Planting and Fresh Food
In the not-so-distant past—around the year 1965—life moved at a gentler pace. Families rose with the sun and rested with the moon. Many households relied on their own backyards or community lands to grow fruits, vegetables, and herbs. Farming wasn’t just an occupation; it was a way of life, deeply connected to survival, health, and tradition. People understood the value of fresh food—not only for nutrition but also for the joy it brought to the table. That generation lived closer to the earth, and in doing so, they passed down a legacy rooted in respect for nature, hard work, and sustainability.
Fast forward to today, and the contrast is clear. The younger generation—surrounded by technology, convenience, and fast-paced living—has often moved away from this earthy tradition. Supermarkets stock vegetables from thousands of miles away. Food is packaged, processed, and preserved, with many not knowing where it came from or how it was grown. While we have gained in efficiency and variety, we have lost something deeply valuable: our connection to the land.
But this gap can be bridged.
The older generation planted not just seeds in the soil, but also wisdom in the hearts of their children. They knew the importance of working the land, not only to feed the body but to nourish the soul. They taught that food grown with one’s own hands holds a different kind of value—one that no grocery store can replicate. The act of planting a seed, watching it grow, and harvesting its fruit is a quiet miracle that teaches patience, responsibility, and gratitude.
Farms were once a common sight, even on a small scale. Gardens stretched behind homes, often brimming with tomatoes, beans, potatoes, and seasonal greens. There was pride in growing what you ate. Nothing was wasted. Leftover peels became compost; old seeds were stored for the next planting. Children learned these cycles early, and meals became family rituals, where everyone had a role—from digging and watering to cooking and sharing.
Today, while fewer people live on farms, the need for that wisdom is greater than ever. The world faces growing concerns: climate change, food insecurity, and declining health due to poor diets. Reviving the tradition of planting—whether in large plots, balcony gardens, or even indoor herb boxes—can be part of the solution. It’s not about going back in time, but rather moving forward with the best of both worlds.
Young people are beginning to awaken to this truth. Urban gardening, community farms, and sustainability projects are rising across cities and towns. Schools are teaching children how to grow their own food. Movements around organic farming, plant-based diets, and local food sourcing are gaining traction. This new generation may not have the same relationship with the land as their grandparents, but they are finding new ways to reconnect.
And they have much to learn from the elders.
The generation of 1965 knew that the earth could provide, but only if treated with respect. They practiced natural methods long before the term “organic” became trendy. They saved seeds, worked in tune with the seasons, and understood the importance of balance. They knew that food was medicine, and that what we put into our bodies mattered. Their knowledge, if preserved and shared, can be a powerful guide for today’s challenges.
So let this be a call—not of nostalgia, but of renewal.
To the younger generation: your hands are capable of more than typing and swiping. Use them to plant, to dig, to nurture. Even a single herb on a windowsill can reconnect you to something ancient and real. Start small, but start somewhere. Learn from your elders, listen to their stories, and ask them about the gardens they grew.
To the older generation: your experience is needed now more than ever. Share your knowledge. Teach the young how to plant, preserve, and cook. Show them the taste of a tomato ripened on the vine or the smell of basil crushed between fingers. These simple experiences are powerful—they can inspire a new generation to care for the earth and themselves.
The roots run deep, but the future still grows. Let the memory of 1965 not be just a story of the past, but a seed planted in the present, blooming into a healthier, more connected tomorrow.