The wind outside howled, the falling snow buried the trees and grass under it. But beyond the velvety curtains of the one of the snow-covered ancient houses was warmth, the mood filled with laughter and warmth.

My cousin Zara and I stood in the kitchen of the warm ancient house, looking at a recipe book. It was a day of heartfelt conversations and tenderness. I was at a family gathering of my mother’s side of the family, where it was a tradition for the family to meet up a few days before the New Year, and for my aunt to make a traditional soup. But, as she was not feeling well and could not make it this time, we took matters in our own hands.

Waiting for the water to come at a boil, Zara and I came........

© Dawn Young Magazine