A little girl was walking along the cobbled roads, her younger brother scampering behind her in padded footsteps. She had to fetch water from the well up the hill, help her mother with the household chores and do her daily lessons by the light of a lone kerosene lamp, that burnt with an acrid smoke, drawing in flies and insects by hordes.
The walk to school was impossible, there was only a lone ropeway across the crevasses that brought her to school. Still the early morning fog was nice to behold, so were the bright orchids ..the strawberries.
One day the family waited for the father, but he didn't turn up, the frugal dinner on the table turned cold. The mother wouldn't eat, though she fed her three little children. Finally news came in that the father had gone to the city to buy necessities and he had been caught in a crossfire. He was badly injured and succumbed to his injuries.
To make both ends meet the family moved to the city. Mother could manage odd jobs and the little girl helped her mother with knitting. Mother used to knit sunny winter wear for the customers, her hands were all sore and the children could only think of the days she used to gift them such bright and soft woolens. The little girl continued with her studies, this time by the yellowish street light, helping her younger brothers with their task. But she had a passion, she was the princess of the mountains and she grew up to be a famous archer. The days of woe for her and her family were gone, they only missed their father who couldn't live to see his happy family.
Every child is special, every support counts... somewhere it is easy to give alms, may be it's a little more difficult to keep someone's hopes and dreams alive...in the end , society gets back what it gives...anarchy or peace choice is ours...