C32 still girl and her

Her dusty memories began with a great river, a river that flowed day and night, sparkling and rippling, clumps of reeds always hanging their heads in the sunset, as shy as the new wives in the village.

She was only six or seven years old, but she could help her mother wash clothes, pick up rice, and cook.

The villagers all said that she was a good and sensible girl, but unfortunately