I remember my mother chopping fragrant green onions,
her precision as fast as a industrial sewing machine,
and she went on chopping meat and vegetables for the dumplings.
She stirred the soup, sprinkling in the spices.
The soup simmered and bubbled, filling the house with its scent.
She spread flour on the countertops, creating a small snowy landscape.
A large mass of dough was placed on the surface and rolled out
and we used cookie cutters to cut out perfect thin circles of dough.
Then they were filled with meat and veggies,
that showed bursts of color in the dull brown meat.
Plop! Plop! In the pot they dived instantly warming up.
After the hard work is finished the family came together.
Slurping the soup, steam escaping out of the dumpling,
delicious family recipe, some things will never get old.