I remember. I remember myself.
Not understanding the language, the surroundings becoming a swirling vortex of scenery. With no escape, I faced the unknown that was about to begin.
A school in a foreign land. I remember the feeling of sitting in a classroom with no idea what was going on.
My daughter is sitting. Sitting with good posture. She probably doesn't understand many things. She imitates the child next to her, takes out her textbook, and opens a page.
What's very different from me. Although she shows a moment of confusion on her face, she doesn't care. She has an attitude of 'Huh? So what?'. She's composed.
It's break time.
She found me and jumped into my arms. Then she showed me the notebook from her desk. It has various cute drawings. A huge amount.
Sometimes, she doesn't know who to play with or what to do during break time.
She probably draws during those times.
My daughter is working hard
Proud daughter
I'll work hard too
