At 99, she'd walk to a small patch of land about 7 miles outside her village…

At 99,She’d walk to a small patch of land about 7 miles outside her village…

No cane…

No wheelchair…

And with her straw basket in hand…

She’d pick these tiny plants one by one.

I had no idea what they were.

But when she had a full basket…

We walked back to the village..

Where she’d spend hours separating the plants.Then she’d grind them down by hand…

Take a small pinch and put it in a cup…

And pour hot water over them.

Like an honest to goodness homemade tea.

“Why are you drinking that?”, I asked.

She replied…

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