Searching and searching, it is easy to find memories. In the dust of history, that woman came to me. This is the story of my grandmother. In the hazy mist and rain, passing through the mountains and rivers, in the yellowing page of time, I crowned such a soul and said softly, "Let's go."
You have your own reasons for not reading the article. The writing is too immature, but I would be very grateful if someone could write her story and let someone know about it.