Your son Michael

In the cold city, everything is frozen, a small town, or rather a village, a stream at the edge of the village overflowing with cold water, houses made of canvas held up by wooden poles, everything is simple.

In your house, where the sun shines despite the cold, you leave your house, wearing a warm, heavy dress with an apron over it and your hair pulled up. You take out the nine empty wooden water buckets as usual and put them in the wooden cart. Before you leave, you walk to the large bucket placed beside the house, like in all the other houses, covered with a small curtain and designated for washing. You wash your face as you stand up, walk on the rug outside the house, and push the cart. Suddenly, Michael comes out of the house wearing his simple clothes, sewn in simple places, and shouts

"Mom! I'm coming with you!"

He ran, holding the cart and pushing it for you, heading towards the well. When you reached the well and started scooping water from the well into buckets and putting the buckets in the cart, Michael watched curiously as his mother worked. Suddenly, Michael spoke.

"Mom, when I grow up I will be a strong man and carry the buckets for you!"

You're a simple woman, working to feed your son delicious food and keep him warm. Will love sweep you off your feet after all these years? Don't forget, you're 27.