I was born and have grown up in the country in a small village beside a beautiful river. My village is surrounded in a hedge of green bamboos. Most of the houses in the village are built of brick and have red tiled roofs. In the middle of the village there is an old pagoda with high trees around it. On the first and fifteenth days of the lunar month, the villagers often go to the pagoda to give offerings to The God of Agriculture. On the right of the village flows quietly a clear and blue river. When I was young, I used to swim in the river with my friends. How can I forget the wonderful time on this river fishing or rowing a boat with my boyhood friends! On the left of the village lies the village green where village meetings are often held by village officials. On this ground covered with soft grass we used to fly kites on windy autumnal evenings. The majority of villages live on agriculture. They get rich thanks to their fertile rice-fields and their diligence. Harvest time is certainly the busiest and the merriest time of the year. During the harvest, the villagers often get up very early in the morning. They cheerfully go to their rice-fields to harvest the bumper crop – the fruit of many months of hard work. My villagers are very friendly and helpful. They are willing to offer mutual help in any case and always get on with one another harmoniously. My village is rather small indeed but I like it very much because I was born and have grown up there and spent my happiest childhood among the simple and hard-working villagers who always feel attached to their native land.
