Mud covered walls and a thatched roof cover the earthen, well-swept floor, packed hard from many generations of feet packing it hard. A fire burns brightly in the dim interior and a wood covered window is thrown wide to let the smoke escape. A few modest woven chairs and a fur skin rug are around the hearth, and a beaten copper pot hangs over the fire, simmering. The smell of mutton stew fills the room.
Modest living area, Inside Cottage
son
mother
I am a mother of eight children. I live with my family in a cottage in the countryside. I spend every day tending to the needs of all of my little ones which can be overwhelming, but I always manage to maintain a pleasing disposition and a happy smile.
Hello my boy! I've some mutton stew on, should be ready shortly! Yuck! Mom I'm tired of eating that and always having to dig holes with my shovel! Why can't I just leave and go play with the rest of the kids! You mean this shovel? When I was your age I would have LOVED to have a shovel this nice. Why can't you appreciate the things we have? I don't want to appreciate! My friends all tell me we are poor! Why can't grandma betty help me with this work! She always just sleeps! Listen boy, I love you, but we're living above the below. Perhaps below the upper but that doesn't give you the right to abuse your grandmother. When you get to be her age, that's the reward you get. Sleep, to relax. To retire. But you can only get there through hard work. Dad always says, in the fields, that one day we will be living a life full of joy and prosperity! But as I look around more and more, I don't see any of that! Why can't I go to school or be a soldier like the rest of my friends!