Write an essay on a story your parents/grandparents have told you and what you have learned from it.
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Answer:my grand mother always tell this story
My maternal grandmother was a child amongst twelve. She wasn't the eldest nor the youngest, but in villages back in the day, she had a lot of work cut out for a child of only fourteen. Her mother, my great grandma, was a very strict woman with a high temper. My grandma was very scared of her and wouldn't dare whine or complain about anything.
One fine day during her free time, she was swinging on a old, rusty swing. The nail from the swing disloged and it pierced her skin from the joint of the elbow to her forearm. She didn't dare go back to her home and tell her mother, her mother would've blamed her for the incident (as my grandma says). Instead, she ripped out the nail (which was very long and thick) and took hot sand from the area (the sun was bearing down on it) and stuck it inside the wound. She ripped her saree (a type of clothing worn by Indian women) and wrapped it around her wound. She came home, and went to sleep.
The next day, her mother woke her up, because she slept in late, to finish the housework. At that time, my great grandfather came over to see why his wife was yelling, upon removing her blanket, he saw that she was sweating. He touched her forehead and she was burning up. They saw the wound and quickly unraveled it and saw that it was red, pus filled, and oozing. They quickly took her to the 'doctor' (at that time there were only village doctors called, Vaids), where he ordered some leaves of certain plants, made a liquid after squishy them in a mortar and pestle, and inserted the liquid into her arm, after cleaning out the sand. She cried, but didn't utter a word. After a couple of treatments, she was good as new.
I can still see the scar on her arm, and all I can say is that she's a strong — very strong lady. When I was born, my grandmother fed me jaggery in water even before I had milk, a tradition in my family, my parents say that I've gotten my strength from her. I've never cried during injections, after fracturing my femur, nor after my surgeries, and I truly believe that. Both of my parents are softies, actually everyone in my family is a softie, except my grandma and I. I have no one else to thank for my immense strength, than my grandma.
She's 85 years old and still as strong as ever. She hasn't taken a single pill in her life and is still able to do all her work by herself, now that's amazing!
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