This story was told by my grandmother when I was twelve or thirteen years old. The erosion of time has left ravines on her thin face, but her story remains fresh and shining with time. The first half of this story is what my grandmother heard her mother describe, and the second half is her own personal experience. Although I have never met most of the characters in the story, and I don't know their real names, it does not affect my respect for those turbulent years. It is like a key, opening the gate of memory, using the prosperous past to tell us, future generations, that we must still have confidence even in the face of adversity.
