Home is where the umbilical, cut vegetables are buried where raised children into people. It has documented how the sad, sweet memories of childhood. that was the day I was living my parents were loving parents. Dazzling sunny day chang medium sized fan ru mother. Cold winter warmer brewed for dad and old children by love of the people. The home is also the place for the children who you Sage, you're good. Those of you with me. Buffalo blankets with you cut the grass on the banks of the levees. The people you have shared with me how pleasurable sadness. Do you remember the teacher had taught me. But Word of the instructors, the pen strokes, tiềng said, were carved deep in my heart. How can you forget the lovely humans deserve you in the place of his beloved? The home is also for me the green trees, the Princess Bride, the fresh green of the rice fields. Phew! grateful and proud to know my beloved hometown.
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