Searching for trumpet worm nests in the dirt was never a meaningless childhood pastime.

It wasn’t boredom, nor a lack of creativity—it was survival wrapped in curiosity, hope tucked beneath dirty fingernails, and a kind of adventure only children who grew up with very little could truly grasp. While others were glued to glowing screens, we vanished into fields and backyards, chasing tiny wonders with scraped knees and open hands.