Bedtime Stories

Title: Grandma's little house.

The sound of the morning crowing woke me up with the smell of sticky rice floating from the kitchen.

I opened my eyes slowly before I heard a familiar sound.

"Wake up, grandchildren. I'll go to school late."

Grandma sounds like everyday

Grandma's little wooden house is at the end of the field. The morning wind blows cold through the window. I get up to wash my face. See Grandma building a charcoal stove. Boil a big pot of tofu water. A thin smoke rises with the smile of the old man I love the most.

She never complained of tiredness when she woke up at 5: 00 a.m., cooked rice, cooked rice, and drove a car to sell things in front of the alley.

"Grandma can take a break," I said.

Grandma chuckled.

"If Grandma stops, how can you eat?"

That word keeps me quiet every time.

As a child, I never understood why my grandmother had to save everything. I could eat with chili for days, but would always save money to buy me snacks.

Until one day, I secretly saw my grandmother count the coins in the jar for one baht at a time.

All the old coins are full.

"Keep your grandchildren studying high," said the grandmother, thinking I didn't see.

That's when my tears flowed.

I promised myself that.

One day I will be good at learning, doing good work and taking my grandmother on a trip to eat delicious things for her.

Because all my life,

Grandma is home, warmth, and the person who loves me the most.