One Sunday morning, I look out the window.

It was dark yet so enchanting because the snow is falling

I notice that they go in different directions.

Some are even confuse they go to the left, right ,up ,down and some just go

round and round until they disappear.

And then I said to myself, “why am I here, what am I doing here?”

I remember the days when I was a child.

I was born in a small town where everything is green and everyone is beautiful.

Pine trees grow all around which provides a cool breeze .

The flowers grow everywhere as it rains at least twice  a week every afternoon.

My mother used to plant all kinds of vegetables and root crops.

My father also owns a small farm which provides food on our table.

I have three beautiful sisters who are  my playmates as our age are almost just the same.

My mother was 16 and my Dad was 20 when they got married.

 Back then, family planning was still uncommon.

Life was pretty rough and hard . Our grandparents from both sides seems not to know we even existed.

But it was where our story began.

We play, we work and we study together.

We help our parents in the farm during summer breaks, during Saturdays or even holidays when there is no class.

We did not grow up like any other kids who spend their vacation with friends, going anywhere they want to.

But we had fun and we play in the farm as well. We climb the trees and build small houses on the branches.

We shout, scream and sing as free as the birds.

We collect butterflies and wild flowers , dry them up and paste them in a book.

I mean the flowers,not the butterflies. We set them free when they feel like flying. 

We don’t have expensive toys, beautiful clothes or  new shoes to wear in school.

But we had books and backpacks full of food and drinks.

My mother is a smart woman.She does not go to groceries very often but she cooks nutritious food  for us everyday.

In fact, she just pick most of the ingredients from the garden.

She thought us everything we should learn in the kitchen at the age of 10.

By the age of eight, I was already washing my own clothes.