As I hold my grandmpthers hands
I see how old they are.
I think, these hands
lived through so much.
New forces of life,
a new way to live,
a new way to speak.
Land,
Religion,
Lainguage
Slowly dissapearing.
But as I look in her eyes I see a glint of hope.
Even though she does not show it , itŐs there.
Many were killed and
new ways destroyed the old hearts of many,
but this hope will prevail.
She sees her grandchildren
running freely.
She now knows that there is hope for our people.
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