Memories from the village

I worked hard in my family's village farms with my friends today. At noon, we were so tired to continue under the angry sun, having decided that we had done enough tiling and planting, we went to Grandma's house. We helped her cook beans in her small kitchen, filled with many memories and the good food we made together. Grandma shared her cooking tricks, making the simple beans taste amazing.

We sat around a table full of the food we cooked, enjoying the result of our work. The beans weren't just food; they held stories from our past and connected us to our family roots. The last time I visited was during childhood, about 5 years ago and it feels like yesterday.

After a day of laughter and shared moments, we rested in Grandma's cool house. The night was calm, filled with stories and the life of the village. When morning came, we felt refreshed, and we greeted Grandma goodbye.

Heading home, we walked the familiar path, appreciating our hardwork and the bond we shared. The village stayed in our hearts, a place we would return to, passing down traditions to the next generations.