On a crisp autumn day, our entire family—father, mother, my two younger sisters, and I—set out with a cargo hand cart. My older younger sister and I rode in the cart while our father pushed it, and our mother carried my youngest sister on her back.

Upon reaching the Han River, we boarded a wooden ferry to cross to the other side, where a vast field of turnips stretched before us. Though the farmers had already harvested their crops, remnants of leaves and stems lay scattered across the ground. For hours, we gathered these leftovers, packed them into the cart, and made our way home.

Those humble leaves became the foundation of our winter sustenance, transformed into kimchi—the only side dish we had throughout the long, harsh season. At the time, my parents sold baby chicks at the market but struggled to earn enough to afford nourishing food. In winter, their business came to a halt, leaving us to subsist on rice soup and turnip leaf kimchi, three times a day, every day.

Incidentally, that once barren turnip field has since evolved into Gangnam – Seoul’s most prosperous district. A future I could never have envisioned back then.