" Dothory lived in a small house in Kansa, with uncle Henry, aunt Em and a little dog called Toto. "
I began my introduction with a quotation from the book " The Wizard of Oz", because sometimes, when I am far away with my imagination, I associate that I am Dothory, and my village is Kansa !
I've lived in a small village situated in the north of Vietnam, " There were no trees, no hills in Kansa, and it's often very windy"- That's similar to my village: no big trees, no hills, no mountains, no spectacular sceneries, no modern facilities..It's so quiet that I can't differentiate between " peaceful"and " boring".
Our lives are very close to nature. How would you feel if there were a frog jumping or a crab crawling into your living room while you were watching TV ? It's very normal to me, when rainy season is approaching, some " uninvited guests" ( worms, butterflies,frogs) often visit my house.
In the evening, the silence is interminable and sometimes, the sounds of insects living in paddy fields wake you up at night. If you're a light sleeper and susceptible, you'll feel a bit maudlin !
The majority of people living here are farmers. They start their work at dawn and coming home when stars twinkle in the sky. Parents don't have time to keep an eye on their children, so sometimes they are being lackadaisical, Generally, they're very obedient and greatful.
I have never contemplated moving to a city although my mother can afford to do that. My village- it garners no reputation, sometimes, when the weather has fluctuated strangly and storms hit my village, our lives become more difficult than ever. A simple reason, I love my pretty village, look up to tolerant and open-minded villagers. Children respect adults and adults listen to children's perspectives. You'll never be ostracized for your weird and egregious ideas.
My village : never in bedlam, never happens quarrels between neighbors....very great !
Hall 2A murder was committed, homes were burned, and other homes were broken into.People suffered in agonizing pain as their whole world was torn apart. A tornado ripped throughmy hometown. The devastation looked like a freight train had torn through the small peacefultown.Pieces of homes were scattered like a child had thrown down their toys. Pieces werethrown everywhere with no mind where they landed or who they landed on and houses brokenapart like a house of cards. Frames from mobile homes twisted around trees like they were apiece of rope, cars and trucks tossed down like match box cars.Families were uprooted from their homes so quickly. These people lost everything withmany escaping with just the clothing they were wearing. Some were still in the hospital healingfrom the physical wounds and trying to heal from the emotional wounds. A mother gone fromher family for good, she died protecting her child, a boy of fifteen, who is now crippled for life.He will never be the active child again, as he can only go as fast as his walker will allow. Ayoung mother, eighteen years old and pregnant now has eight fractures in her spine, all done withno second thought to the consequences.My children were so close to the devastation. My heart twisted in horror as theweatherman spewed out a tornado had just hit three miles south of town. No one answered theirphones, and my soul was crying out for my children. Praying to God that they are safe, finallyan answer came. My daughter crying out for me, with sirens blaring in the background drowningout all thought. The relief washed over me like a waterfall.The landscape littered with fences tore down; barns ripped apart, horses running free, andcows bawling like lost children. I drove around in shock and thinking this happens in othertowns not my hometown.