1
It started with a piece of bark.
Tomás was sitting near the Shenmu, reviewing his notes, when Xiao Wang appeared with something behind his back. The boy had that look children get when they have a secret, half excited, half nervous.
Tomás - he said - I made something. For you.
He held out his hands. In them, a large piece of tree bark, flat and smooth on one side. And on that smooth side, drawings. Crude, childish drawings, but recognizable: a plant with blue flowers, another with long leaves, a third with a thick stem.
Tomás looked at the drawings, then at Xiao Wang.
You did this?
Wang nodded, proud.
I watched you. You draw plants. So I draw too. For remembering.
Tomás felt something warm in his chest. He took the bark carefully, as if it were a treasure.
Wang, this is... this is really good.
Wang beamed. Then he pointed to the drawings.
This is lánhuā. This is báicài. This is... - he hesitated - ...I don't know this one's name. But I saw it near the forest. It has yellow flowers.
Tomás looked at the third drawing. A plant with yellow flowers, growing in a cluster. He had not seen that one yet.
Show me? - he asked - Where?
Wang grabbed his hand and pulled.
2
They walked to the edge of the forest, near the place where Tomás had found the qīngliáng cǎo. Wang stopped by a small clearing and pointed.
There.
Tomás crouched to look. It was a low plant, almost hidden by grass, with small yellow flowers in tight clusters. He did not recognize it. He took out his notebook and began to sketch, while Wang watched over his shoulder.
What name? - Wang asked.
I don't know yet - Tomás admitted - I have never seen this one.
Wang's eyes widened.
You? You don't know? But you know everything!
Tomás laughed.
No, no. I don't know everything. I know some things. But there is so much more to learn. That's why I write. To remember. To learn.
Wang thought about this. Then he pointed to his bark drawing.
I write too. So I learn too.
Tomás nodded.
Yes. Exactly.
He finished his sketch and added notes: "Yellow flowers, clustered. Leaves thin, slightly hairy. Location: forest edge, near qīngliáng cǎo. Need to ask Granny Liu or Hunter Shi about name and uses."
Then he looked at Wang.
You found a new plant. You should write it in your book too.
Wang looked at his bark, then at Tomás's notebook, then back at his bark.
My book is... not as good.
It's perfect - Tomás said - Every scientist starts with a book like that. My first book was just paper and pencil. Not fancy. But it worked.
Wang smiled and carefully added the yellow flower to his bark drawing.
3
When they returned to the village, two other children were waiting.
A boy and a girl, both younger than Wang. The boy was maybe five, with a round face and curious eyes. The girl was six or seven, shy, holding a small bunch of wildflowers.
Wang introduced them:
This is Li Wei. This is Mei.
Li Wei, the boy, stepped forward and held out his hands. In them, a flat stone with scratches on it. Drawings, like Wang's, but even more primitive. A plant. A sun. A person.
I made - Li Wei said, pointing to the stone - For you.
Tomás knelt to look at it. The drawings were simple, but he could see the effort. The plant had leaves and a stem. The sun was a circle with lines. The person was a stick figure with a triangle for a body.
This is beautiful, Li Wei - Tomás said - What plant is this?
Li Wei pointed to a patch of báicài near the square.
That one.
Tomás nodded seriously.
Good observation. You looked, and you drew what you saw. That's exactly what scientists do.
Li Wei beamed.
Then Mei, the shy girl, stepped forward. She held out her flowers, a small bundle of wild blooms, mostly blue and white.
For you - she whispered.
Tomás took them gently.
Thank you, Mei. These are beautiful. Where did you find them?
She pointed toward the stream, beyond the village.
By the water. They grow there.
Tomás looked at the flowers closely. Blue petals, white centers. A type he had not seen before. He took out his notebook and began to sketch, while the children watched.
These are new for me - he said - I need to write them down. Thank you for showing me.
Mei smiled, a tiny smile, and hid behind Wang.
4
That afternoon, Tomás had a class.
Word had spread among the children. By the time he sat under the Shenmu, there were six of them: Xiao Wang, Li Wei, Mei, and three others whose names he learned slowly. A girl called Hua, a boy called Jun, and another boy, the youngest, called little Feng.
They sat in a circle, each holding their own "notebooks": pieces of bark, flat stones, even a large leaf for little Feng, who could not carry anything heavier.
Tomás looked at them and felt a strange emotion. In his world, children this age would be in school, learning reading and math. Here, they worked. They helped their families. They learned what their parents taught them. No one had ever sat them down to teach them how to observe.
Okay - he said - Today, we learn to look.
He pointed to a plant growing near the Shenmu, a common one they all knew.
What is this?
Báicài! - they shouted together.
Good. Now, look closer. Tell me something about it. Anything.
The children stared at the plant. Silence.
Wang spoke first:
It's green.
Yes. What else?
Li Wei pointed:
The leaves are big.
Good. What else?
Mei, shy as always, whispered:
There's a hole. In one leaf. A bug ate it.
Tomás smiled.
Excellent, Mei. You saw something the others didn't. A hole. A bug. That is good observation.
He stood and walked to the plant, crouching beside it.
Now, watch me. I will look at this plant, and I will tell you what I see. Then you try again.
He examined the plant slowly, touching the leaves gently, turning them over.
I see green leaves. Yes. I see big leaves. Yes. I see a hole, where a bug ate. Yes. But I also see... - he pointed - ...small white dots on the underside. And here, a tiny spider, hiding. And here, the stem is bent, maybe from wind, maybe from an animal.
The children leaned in, fascinated.
There's a spider? - little Feng asked.
Yes. Look.
They all crowded around, trying to see. Wang found it first.
I see! Small spider! Very small!
Tomás nodded.
Good. Now, you try. Each of you, find a plant. Any plant. Look at it for a long time. Then come back and tell me one thing you saw that you did not see before.
The children scattered, excited.
5
They returned one by one, each with a discovery.
Li Wei had found a plant with ants crawling on it.
Hua had found two different plants growing together, their stems twisted around each other.
Jun had found a leaf with strange patterns, almost like writing.
Mei had found a flower with a bee inside, sleeping.
Little Feng had found nothing, because he had spent the whole time watching a caterpillar, and that was his discovery: the caterpillar was eating a leaf, slowly, bite by bite.
Tomás listened to each one, nodded, and wrote their names in his notebook, next to their discoveries.
You did well - he said - All of you. You looked. You saw things you did not see before. That is the first step. Tomorrow, we do it again. And the next day. And the next. Looking, every day. You will get better.
Wang raised his hand, like Tomás had taught him.
Tomás, what is the word for this? In your language?
Tomás thought.
In my language, we call it "observar." To observe.
The children repeated it, stumbling over the unfamiliar sounds.
Ob-ser-var.
Obser-bar.
O-be-sar.
Tomás laughed.
Good enough. Now, go. Show your families what you found. Tell them you are learning to observe.
The children ran off, excited, waving their bark and stones and leaves.
All except Mei. She stayed behind, holding her flowers.
Tomás - she said quietly - Thank you. For teaching us.
Tomás knelt to her level.
Thank you for the flowers, Mei. And for the bee. That was a good discovery.
She smiled, that tiny smile again, and ran off to join the others.
6
That evening, Wei Chen found Tomás by the fire, writing in his notebook.
I heard - the scholar said - You have students now.
Tomás looked up, smiling.
They want to learn. They brought me drawings, flowers, stones. How could I say no?
Wei Chen sat beside him.
In the village, we do not teach children like this. They learn from their parents. Their parents teach them what they need to know. Farming, cooking, building. No one teaches them to... observe.
Tomás nodded.
I know. But observing is useful. For farming, for cooking, for building. If you see things more clearly, you do things better.
Wei Chen considered this.
Maybe. But will their parents agree? Some may think you are filling their heads with strange ideas.
Tomás had not thought of that.
Do you think there will be problems?
Wei Chen shrugged.
Not yet. The children are happy. You helped Chen Guang. You helped the women. People are... curious. But if you keep teaching, someone may ask questions. What are you teaching? Why? What gives you the right?
Tomás was quiet for a moment.
I don't have a right. I just... want to help them see.
Wei Chen smiled.
I know. But not everyone will understand. Be careful.
Tomás nodded slowly.
I will.
They sat in silence, watching the fire.
Then Wei Chen said:
Tomorrow, I want to learn more words. Your words for... for what you taught them. "Observe." And the other one. "Discovery."
Tomás smiled.
Deal.
Wei Chen repeated it, as always.
Deal.
7
That night, Tomás wrote in his notebook:
Today, six children learned to observe. They found ants, caterpillars, sleeping bees, twisted plants, patterned leaves. They saw things they had never seen before, even though those things were always there.
Mei gave me flowers. Li Wei gave me a stone with drawings. Xiao Wang gave me bark with plants. Little Feng gave me a caterpillar, which he caught and then released because he felt bad for it.
I am not sure what I am doing. I am not a teacher. I am not a parent. I am just a man from another world who likes plants. But the children look at me like I have answers. And maybe, sometimes, I do.
Wei Chen warned me. Some parents may not like this. I need to be careful. But how can I say no to children who want to learn?
In my world, we had a saying: "Los niños son el futuro." Children are the future. Here, maybe it's the same. Maybe these children, with their bark notebooks and their curious eyes, are the future of this village.
Or maybe I'm just being dramatic.
But either way, tomorrow I will teach them again. And the next day. And the next.
Un día a la vez.