How many kids did she bring up? What happiness and suffering has she gone through in her life? Did she have a good husband? Were her kids nice to her? Was she a good wife and mother? How many winters? How many famines? I don’t know. And I don’t know if any one really knows. They say your whole life shows on your face. If you can only read it. All I see is an exhausted face. And if her eyes can speak, they speak with sorrow.
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