Last winter, my grandmother gave me an old black and white photograph. It showed a young woman standing in front of a small house surrounded by fields. I had never seen her look so young, and I was curious to hear the story behind the picture.
My grandmother told me that the photograph was taken in 1962, the year she moved from her village to the city to look for work. She had grown up on a farm with her parents and five brothers and sisters, and leaving was the hardest thing she had ever done.
In the city, life was very different from what she was used to. She worked long hours in a textile factory and shared a tiny room with two other women. But she saved every penny she could and sent money home to her family each month.
After three years, my grandmother met my grandfather at a dance. He was a carpenter who had also come from a small village. They understood what it was like to miss home, and they supported each other through the difficult early years in the city.
My grandmother kept the photograph on her bedside table for over sixty years. She told me she looked at it every night before going to sleep. Now that the photograph belongs to me, I keep it on my desk, and every time I see it, I think of her courage and everything she gave up so that our family could have a better life.
Options (8 for 5 gaps — some are not used)
1The factory closed down shortly after she started working there
2She knew nobody, and the noise and crowds made her feel overwhelmed at first
3They connected immediately because they had so much in common
4My grandfather did not enjoy living in the city at all
5She never returned to her village after leaving
6She said she was only eighteen at the time and had never left home before
7I recognised my grandmother immediately, even though she looked completely different
8It reminded her of where she came from and the sacrifices she had made