Life was not a search for special secrets of living. It spun around simple days and nights that carried the songs of birds in the morning and of the villagers in the evening, it came from the sweet melodies of fragrant winds and of shepherds' flute, it came from swaying wild roses, poppies, irises, and the gay abandon of village dances by the fire. The village lived more by the gifts that the God gave without putting a price tag. There was plentiful sunshine that matured the crops and the fruits as also the joys of the villagers. It was a happy smiling contented village.
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