We leave the classroom behind to shake hands with spring.

If the scent of spring can take a shape, it is exactly how tea buds stretch and open up; if there is another form of classroom learning, it exists in the tea garden where the morning dew has not yet dried.

On this day, students from HIS did not sit in the classroom reading textbooks, but walked into the tea mountains of West Lake Longjing. With bamboo hats, bamboo baskets, fresh tea buds at their fingertips and warm steam rising from the woks, our goal is not to teach children what tea culture is, but to let them truly experience and embrace spring with their own hands.

Before departure, we had a talk about tea

There were no boring theoretical lessons. Teachers gathered the children in a circle and started with stories about tea.

“Why are pre-Qingming teas so precious?” “How hot is manual tea roasting?” “How does a single tea leaf become the drink we have every day?” Questions kept coming one after another. The children’s curiosity was the perfect preparation for this outdoor trip.

When the discussion turns into anticipation, the tea mountain is no longer merely a destination.

Morning: Spend a day as tea farmers and gather spring into bamboo baskets

In the early morning tea garden, dewdrops still hang on the tips of the leaves.

The children put on bamboo hats, slung bamboo baskets over their shoulders, and bent down among the tea rows just like local tea farmers. “Look for shoots with one bud and one leaf. Pluck them gently with a lift; never pinch them.” Before the farmer could finish speaking, some children could not wait to reach out their hands.

The moment their fingertips touched the tender buds, some children exclaimed, “So fresh and soft!” Others carefully placed their first tea bud into the bamboo basket, as if tucking away a precious gem.

Picking the tea is only the beginning of the real challenge.

The tea roasting pan was extremely hot. The master’s hands moved nimbly inside the pan as the fresh tea leaves gradually lost moisture and changed color, with a delicate fragrance slowly spreading out. The children leaned in to watch, and one asked, “Doesn’t it burn?” The master smiled and replied, “I’m used to it.”

When it was the children’s turn to try, some held their breath nervously, while others drew their hands back from the rising heat before reaching out again. In the end, the tea they had picked was brewed in cups, and they watched the leaves slowly unfurl in the water.

“This is what spring tastes like,” said one child.

Afternoon: At the museum, discover the journey of a single tea leaf

The afternoon sunlight filters through the glass windows and falls upon the ancient tea utensils.

At the China National Tea Museum, the children followed the guide to view tea sets from different dynasties and tea samples from various regions. Some paused in front of Song Dynasty tea bowls, imagining how ancient people prepared whisked tea; others talked about the tea-drinking customs of their own countries at the “Tea and the World” exhibition area.

“Tea spread from China to the rest of the world,” one child whispered. This tiny leaf connects thousands of years of history and builds bridges for dialogue between different cultures.

Epilogue

On this day, there were no grand slogans.

Only the lingering fragrance of tea on their palms, the soft touch of tender buds in bamboo baskets, the breath held by the heated wok, and that cup of fresh tea warmed by their own fingertips. The children may not yet fully grasp the weight of “cultural inheritance”, but they will remember —

the tea mountains shrouded in morning mist, the calluses on the master’s palms, and the sweet aftertaste lingering on their tongues after that first sip. These moments will settle gently in their memories like the faint aroma of tea, becoming the softest and most authentic gateway for them to understand China.

May the children carry this peaceful,

clear warmth within them,

and keep discovering

more of China’s gentle beauty

hidden in everyday life.