It was a summer morning. I could feel the breeze in my skin and smell the crops getting closer.

We were
there, at our farm, just me and him, as we always did.

He was telling me the optimal way to grow the seeds and said:

- You have to make the seeds grow even when the climate is not perfect, Carol.

This was one of our last talks.

Emptiness. Powerlessness.

My grandpa, the little guy who always told me he was 5’7 (o course he was not), the one who was
always by my side, the one who encouraged my love for science the most, passed away.

I got depressed.

For months I trembled in despair and my heart ached with the unshakable cholera of my loss. I couldn’t
see myself out of this situation.

It was one day, though, that his voice suddenly came to me. It was the phrase he’d told me. I couldn’t
understand why the expression of my unconscious would bring crops up while I was sorrowful.

That was until I realized that growing the seeds even when the climate wasn’t perfect could be a
metaphor applicable to my whole life.

With this, I knew he would’ve wanted me to continue believing in my potential all along.

I stumbled out of bed and started to do what I loved the most: studying.

My interest in everything started to grow exponentially and my grades were higher than ever!

This realization was the motivating factor for me to do and to be more!

Ideas started flourishing as my creative light went on.

Because of him, I published a scientific paper theorizing the substantiality of applied mathematics to be
taught in high school for young people to have prosperity in their economic and management duties.

I created a national website dedicated to him so everyone to be able to learn applicable methods of
integral and differential equations, conclusively concretizing the growth of my seeds.

So, thank you, Grandpa, for showing me how I can reinvent and evolve myself even in imperfect
climates!