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I still remember her eyes. They were warm like the sun and made me feel happy.

Every day, I put the letter in my coat, but I didn’t give it to her.

Now the letter is still here, closed and unread — just like my heart.

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I got a letter offering me a job in the city. The city was big and bright, full of people and new things.

Maybe I would have worn a suit, worked in a tall building, and eaten food I didn’t know.

But I stayed with my family and worked in the wheat fields.

I sometimes wonder, but I don’t regret my choice

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The day my son left, the world felt quiet.

When I got the letter that said he was gone, everything stopped.

He wanted to be a teacher. He wanted to live.

Now, I only hear his name in the wind.

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I used to draw birds. They were free and brave.

They flew across oceans I had only seen in books.

But I stayed in my village.

I watched other people leave, but I stayed and only dreamed.

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If I had given her the letter, I might have known how she felt.

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If I had left home, I might have seen the world beyond the wheat fields.

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If the war had never happened, my son would have become a teacher.

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If I didn’t hold myself back, I might be living a different life now.

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If I had been brave enough, I would have spoken to her that day.

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If I had accepted the offer, I would have lived a very different life.

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If I had known it was the last time, I would have held him longer.

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If I had told her the truth, things could have been different.

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If I had taken the job in the city, my life would have changed completely.