I wake before the world stirs, before the city breathes 🌄. When the streets are silent and the only sound is the wind whispering through the trees 🍃, I am already awake. While most people are deciding what to eat for lunch 🥗, my hands are deep in the soil, planting, tending, and caring for life that will feed someone I may never meet 🌱🥕.
I don’t wear a suit 💼. I don’t sit behind glass walls ❌. My office is the open sky, my desk is the earth beneath my feet, and my uniform is a worn jacket, dusty boots, and skin kissed by the sun ☀️👢. Every line etched on my face tells a story — frost that burned the crops ❄️, droughts that stole entire seasons 🌾, endless days filled with back-breaking labor and empty pockets, yet a heart that refuses to surrender ❤️💪.
When trucks roll past, overflowing with vegetables 🚚🥬, few even glance. My name is unknown. Few imagine the countless mornings I wanted to quit, the nights I cried quietly under the stars 🌌, the sacrifices made so that someone else could eat. Yet tomorrow, I will rise again — because somewhere, someone will need a fresh salad, a warm soup, a family meal that nourishes more than just the body 🥣💛.
I don’t want applause 👏. I don’t seek medals 🏅. I only wish that people would pause and see: see the hands that planted the seeds, the hearts that battled storms and sun alike, the families who rise and toil so that others may eat 🥕🥬💖. Every carrot, every cabbage, every grain of rice carries a story. Every plate you hold is a testament to unseen struggles and quiet courage.
So today, do something small but powerful: say “Good morning” to a farmer, share a smile, offer respect for those who grow your food 🌟🙏. Look at your plate and remember — every bite has a story, every meal is a labor of love, every vegetable is a testament to resilience.
Good morning, from a farmer who just wants to be seen 🌾💛🌞. Because behind every meal is a life of dedication, hope, and relentless courage — a life that deserves more than passing acknowledgment.