A Simple Story

Please allow me to tell you a story. Being a small boy of about 8-9 years, the sun arrived from behind the hills and announced a beautiful morning of summer. My father came around and sent a mysterious smile and with wide open happy eyes asked my mother, my brother and I if we are ready for a week long trip in the countryside alongside Mother Nature. The invitation that arrived with the morning sun had our childish souls filled with interest and excitement.

The car started to move slowly towards the sky and we could now reach our hands up and touch the golden sun, as the car was heavily going uphill and after a few hours we arrived in this small village at the base of the mountains and surrounded by a clear and deep blue lake. A family of farmers welcomed us warmly and showed us the way towards their beautiful white stone made house.

The following days were created for us to be remembered. From nature trips to the water jumps in the lake, from the play surrounded by cows and other animals to the strong and fresh air of this mountainous beauty, from the warmth of the people to the amazing scents and tastes of fresh milk, butter, bread and cheese. After spending a full day out on the farm or on the lake we would return to the large kitchen that was awaiting us with all these naturally born products and we would go to sleep in the wooden beds covered underneath these large thick goose feathered duvets.

It is a simple story but one that remains as one of the strongest one alive in my memory. Although I was used with such fresh products as they were available at the local market and in our kitchen almost every day, it was an experience that brought me close to a pure form of existence and which gave me a wonderful sense of life on a farm.

Well all this happened at different times and in different worlds, as this was all part of Romania, under a communist regime, visiting a small village of peaceful and welcoming farmers.

Back to reality and in the sometimes biting present society surrounded by consumerism, plastics, genetically modified foods coming of the shelves of humongous supermarkets developed under polluted skies, after almost 30 years, my family managed to rediscover the good old memory and the destiny played it’s good part in connecting us with farmer Michael Schmidt and his biodynamic philosophy of farming, which simply stated is just the natural way of growing animals, vegetables and fruits, or producing these untouched milk products that existed once upon the time in my childhood memories. Happiness surrounded us because we found this island of hope from where now my son can take his turn to grow up with fresh milk and develop under the laws of healthy choices. For as much as we parents could do, the farm, the cows, the milk, cheese, and yogurt did some of the rest. And we are also happy because we have made another trip of a different childhood and perhaps one of a little bit different nature, but had acquainted and connected our son with somewhat the same feelings of being at a farm and enjoying the freshness of all that was out there.