Samuel Davis is my name. Since I was a little child, I have struggled to engage in conversation with others. I don't have many friends because I'm an introvert.
I've been assisting my grandfather with his work since I was a small child; I can't even handle a part-time job interview well. My grandfather is a farmer, and I live close to his home and farm. I've been trying to help the family out financially because my mom has a weak constitution, and we live in a single-parent household.
At one point, my grandfather said to me, "You're doing fantastic, Samuel. Having a man around is really beneficial for me. " Having a location where I belonged was crucial, especially when I was feeling down, not fitting in at school, and even being teased by the girls.
I began studying farming alone while I was in middle school; my grandfather's stories were insightful and far more engaging than academic assignments. I began giving becoming a farmer significant consideration when it came time to make decisions about my future. Even if I went to high school, I doubt I would perform well, and given the financial situation of our family, it would be best to begin working as soon as possible.
I could ease my mom's and Grandpa's burdens if I were to inherit the farm eventually. After middle school, I made the decision to become a farmer. However, my grandfather once told me, "You're a bright youngster; you can succeed as a farmer, but that is insufficient.
Huh? In the past, even if you were a quiet person, you could still operate a business as long as your crops were good. That won't do now, though; all the good deals go to the smooth talkers.
Put another way, it would be difficult for me as an introvert to earn a solid living. In fact, I would prefer to purchase from the more gregarious person if they were selling vegetables of the same caliber. Even farming has reached a new phase in which strong marketing and networking are key.
Growing tasty vegetables is pointless if you can't sell them. I have to get over being shy. " I was thinking along these lines one day when I got a notice about a middle school reunion.
My grandfather suggested this might be a good opportunity to get over my shyness, but I wasn't too excited. "Go try it out," he said. I made the decision to go.
The venue for the reunion was booked out, and it was bustling with a bunch of people. When I entered, I was alone, just looking around without anyone to talk to. Then I noticed a very beautiful woman at the front.
She was stunning and had a great figure; she was wearing a brown dress that was very chic and elegant. Did we have someone like her in our class? It had been quite a while since we graduated, and I didn't remember her name, but she probably didn't remember me either.
As I was thinking that, I was tapped on the back. "Samuel! " I turned to see Michelle.
It was Michelle Johnson, a classmate from elementary school in our hometown. There's no one who doesn't know her; her father is the president of a large corporation. She's the typical president's daughter.
For some reason, Michelle came and sat next to me. Then other classmates began to gather around her; all of them had grown up to be very fashionable. I felt embarrassed in my boring attire.
Though I had been trying to keep out of the conversation, Michelle suddenly raised her voice. "Speaking of which, weren't you riding a tractor the other day? " "Uh, yeah, I've been farming since I graduated from middle school.
" "Really? You're a farmer right after middle school? No wonder!
When you walked in, I thought you were some grandpa! " she said, laughing loudly in front of everyone intentionally. It made me feel like all the people in the venue knew about it.
The others looked at me with a mix of pity and cruel amusement, like they'd found some entertaining tidbit. "I heard that even farmers are fashionable these days, but you're totally different, Samuel. " "I don't really have many clothes," I replied, embarrassed.
"I thought so," she said, laughing, and led by Michelle, everyone laughed along. This was typical of her; she had been teasing and bullying me for as long as I could remember. I could understand it during our school days, but I couldn't figure out why a person like her would still target someone like me.
Then one of our female classmates spoke to her, "Hey Michelle, isn't that famous actress going to be in a commercial for your father's company? Do you get to meet her? " "Yeah, it's not a big deal.
" "Amazing! Have you ever met her? She was in a magazine recently.
" A lively conversation began, and once again, I was left out. Then Michelle said to everyone, "Hey, why don't we get together for drinks again with the same group? Let's meet next month.
" "Sounds great! By the way, hey Samuel, you should come too! " The moment she called me, I could almost hear the unspoken "Why?
" from everyone. Despite the fact that she had always mocked me, I wondered why she would want to see me again. "I need to use the restroom," I muttered, unable to bear the cold stares.
I left the table. A few seconds later, laughter broke out at the table. I felt like they were laughing at me, and it weighed heavily on me.
When I returned from the restroom, I didn't go back to the previous table; I sat in a corner, drinking alone. Then the woman in the brown dress, who had been sitting next to me earlier, gave me a warm smile. I wished I could strike up a conversation smoothly at times like this, but I was at a loss for words.
I sat there in silence with my glass in hand. She started the conversation. "You're Samuel Davis, right?
I overheard earlier. Are you a farmer now? " Apparently, she had heard my conversation with Michelle earlier.
I felt embarrassed, but she didn't seem to be making fun of me. "My grandpa runs a farm, and I hope to take it over someday. " "That sounds wonderful.
And no, I can only help out a little for now. " I was surprised to find myself able to continue the conversation despite my usual mumbling, but that time abruptly ended. Michelle had returned.
"Samuel, are you pitting on her? Come on, farming folks can't do that! " Laughter echoed throughout the venue at her comment.
She didn't stop there. "Hey, hey! I heard that farmers eat things like locusts.
Is that real? " "Um, absolutely not! That's disgusting!
" Insulted, my situation kept getting worse and worse. I felt terrible for ruining the mood because of me, especially for the woman in the brown dress. She had the kindness to approach someone like me.
I thought about leaving the place, then that woman in the brown dress said something unexpected. "I've eaten locusts before. " "What?
" "I've also eaten crickets. They tasted like shrimp, and they were really good. " What?
That caused a great commotion, but maybe because she was attractive, her words seemed to have a certain sway over everyone, and the reactions started to change. "I've heard about it too! Eating insects is becoming a trend, right?
I've seen on TV, too. In some places abroad, they even eat crayfish. " Their opinion suddenly turned positive, and chatter started to fly around.
Michelle tried to steer the conversation back, but everyone was siding with that brown dress girl, so nobody was listening to Michelle anymore. "Samuel, should we get going soon? " "Huh?
What? " Suddenly, I was taken away by that woman in the brown dress. I was not sure what was happening.
We walked down the night road. "Why did you help me? Also, I'm sorry, I haven't even asked for your name yet.
" I still couldn't remember who she was. Then she said with a blush, "I'm Jennifer Roberts. Do you remember me?
" "Jennifer? Wait, that Jennifer? " I was in the same class as Jennifer back in 8th grade.
At that time, she wore thick glasses with a braid and looked like a serious person. She looked so different now that I was taken aback. "I've always wanted to say thank you, Samuel.
That's why I brought you out here. " "Thank me? " When I asked, she told me she had been a chronic school refuser until seventh grade, when she gathered the courage to attend school in eighth grade.
She got strange looks from her classmates, and they talked behind her back. "I thought I really hated school. On the way home that day, I tripped and my bag spilled.
I was picking up my things, feeling miserable. Then you, Samuel, who was in the same class, helped me. " I certainly remembered that.
As I picked up the scattered school supplies, I told her, "You know vegetables don't get tasty unless they get some sunlight. " "I didn't understand what you meant then, but later I realized that you were encouraging me to come to school. " "Yeah, that was probably the best wisdom I could use at the time.
I was so happy and felt like going to school again the next day. " Inspired by those words, she made an effort to get out more. Thanks to that, she managed to attend high school.
Then she started to care about her appearance, got a job, and was scouted as a model. After high school graduation, she appeared in a magazine and now works at an editorial production company. "I don't really suit being in the spotlight.
I feel more at ease when I'm behind a desk. " "I get it. I'm shy and have trouble dealing with people.
" It’s a waste for a beauty like her, but I understand her feelings. Before I knew it, I was able to talk to her with an open heart. "I thought I could avoid people by becoming a farmer, but it doesn't seem to be the case now.
" How come? When I told her the problem, my grandpa pointed out, she fell into deep thought, but she soon said, "Samuel, would you show me your work just once? " A few days later, she really came to our farm, also bringing a photographer.
The collaboration of youth and farming seemed to be a popular content these days, and they were apparently planning a special feature. I wasn't sure about the whole thing, but she interviewed my grandpa and me quite extensively. When the article came out, the response was more than we expected.
Thanks to her writing, popularity spread like wildfire, and we started receiving interview requests from other media outlets. I was treated like a man of the hour, and thanks to that, I got used to talking to people. My grandpa praised me, saying, "You've made a good friend.
" In the middle of all this, an invitation came to a reunion with some of my old classmates. When I went to the bar with Jennifer, I was welcomed with a completely different attitude than before. "Hey!
I saw your feature, Samuel! You're doing great! Weren't you on a morning show recently?
Farming looks so different and cool these days! " I was admired and fussed over. It was the first time I'd been treated like this, and I was somewhat taken aback.
But then I realized Michelle, the instigator of all this, was missing. After the party, Jennifer said she wanted to go somewhere. I followed her, and there was Michelle in the bar.
We walked in. "Why is Michelle here? " I called her over.
"When I was writing your article, I researched local farmers and found her grandfather's name among them. " What? I was surprised by her sudden words, but.
. . Michelle continued the story: “My grandpa has also been farming for a long time.
My parents were busy, so when I was little, I spent a lot of time with my grandpa. It seems her grandfather, after stepping down as a company president, took up farming hoping to make a name for himself by only his ability, but things didn't go as planned, and he couldn't grow good vegetables. Back then, Michelle used to accompany her grandfather to the market with their vegetables, but they always had leftovers.
She wondered why her beloved grandfather's vegetables didn't sell, while the ones that always sold out at the same stall were the vegetables grown by a man named James Davis. “James Davis? Is that my grandpa?
” “Yes. As a kid, I thought his vegetables were the reason ours didn't sell. Of course, my grandpa never said such a thing, but I wasn't convinced.
When I found out in middle school that you were his grandson, Samuel, I was so frustrated. I believed you, but it turns out that wasn't the only reason. She was walking the path her parents had laid out for her; even if she had something she wanted to be, she was scared of failing like her grandfather.
“But Samuel, you chose to be a farmer on your own. Even though you were laughed at, you always tried hard. Even though I get praised a lot, in the end, it's all thanks to my parents or the company.
I can't do anything on my own. Why are we so different? ” As she said this, she started crying.
I couldn't help but speak up. “Is your grandpa still farming? ” “Yeah.
” “Can I visit the farm sometime? I want to see what kind of field it is. I'll bring my grandpa along.
” “Can I join too? There might be something I can help with,” Jennifer added. Michelle looked surprised.
“Why? Even though I've been so mean to you? ” “I won't deny it was tough, but maybe it's my farmer's blood.
I want to see your family's vegetables anyway. ” Although she had been silent for a while, Michelle wiped away her tears and whispered a small thank you. That day, I realized something: in our teens, we were all naïve and immature, often running away because we were scared of failure.
But if you bathe in the sun, you can get enough nutrients in your heart. Then all you can do is believe in yourself and those around you and move forward because there will surely come a time when you will be rewarded. No matter how many years it takes, the day will come when you can cultivate a fruitful life.
I believe that.
