Seven mornings. One small thing each day, the way my grandmother taught me. A little letter from me every morning.
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My name is Mia. I am seventy-two years old and I live in Zelena, a village in the Carpathian mountains.
My grandmother worked her garden until the week she died. Her hands were strong at eighty-nine. Everything I cook came from her, and she never bought a single one of the things in these letters at a pharmacy.
I put the seven days in order the way she taught them to me. Start on any morning you like.
Baba Mia