Painting from Memory
I was born in Damyang, a beautiful place known for its bamboo forests in Korea. I spent much time in the forests painting pictures of the 1 . Painting is one of my talents. I lived there until last year when my family moved to New York. My mother, a scientist, was asked to come work here.
"There are no bamboo forests," I said, "there is nothing to 2 in New York."" Don't worry, you will find many things to see and paint there," my mother said. I still felt 3. "But I will miss home," I said. "Then you can paint pictures of your favorite places. They will make you feel at home even in New York," she said. So when we moved, I brought my forest paintings with me.
New York was not easy at first. I missed home a lot. Yet when I looked at my paintings of bamboo, I felt much better. 1 soon 4 friends at school too. They also like painting, and we now paint in a group after school.
Last month, we had a new neighbor, Varvara, an old lady who moved from Russia, to be closer to her daughter. She was sad to leave her home. My mother and I often visited her. She told us her unbearable homesick and everything about her hometown Vyborg. I could5 her home in my head.
Varvara missed her home so much that she became ill. I worried about her and I wanted to do something for her. I had ever been in her6 before. At least, I had my forest paintings of home. However, she didn't even have that. Unless. A few days later, I met Varvara on the stairs. She looked better but still sad. I gave her my gift: a painting of Vyborg. I had painted it from her 7.
She began to cry as she saw the painting. At first, I was worried that she didn't like it. Later, she told me that those were 'cars of joy. I knew just how she8 -wherever you go, hometown is always with you.
