Every summer, we want Mr. Donovan to talk to him. He told stories we like to listen to. But he was very old and soon became ill. When we found him back from the hospital, we went to visit him immediately. His face was pale. Although we were young, we immediately understood that this was his death. <br>At the funeral, we were scared because we did not know whether our family would welcome us when we arrived in Funa. The family greeted us cordially, saying they were happy that we were home. We weep for the good memories of the old Donovan and comfort us. That summer, Mr. Donovan’s sister and I learned not to judge the heart until you know that it may just be hidden wealth.
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