In my memory, the place where I was born was supposed to be a little village. It wasn't very big, though perhaps the way the houses were laid out made it seem larger: like a compass, with the village's huge threshing ground at the center and clusters of homes in each of the four directions, interspersed with a few scattered, isolated houses. Spread out like that, it was hard to call it small. It makes me wonder whether my memory can be trusted. It was such a beautiful place, with lush trees standing tall on both sides of the dirt road leading in and out of the village, and canals winding through it. The water in them was so clean.
Theme: Face life with ease.
