My neighborhood is my pride


My neighborhood is my pride.
1. Neighborhood - The homeland is a small homeland.
2. The neighborhood is the cradle of our great values.
3. My grandfather is one of the veterans of our neighborhood.
4. I want to look like my grandmother.

We, all of us, do we owe the neighborhood.

You are the cradle of ancient values.
You are the grace and perfection of children.
Wherever I go, I always support you.
You are the door that my mother has been waiting for.
(from my creation).
Neighborhood... In the essence of this one word, the whole world's virtues, customs and traditions, hot taffeta are embodied. My neighborhood is an example of my loving mother. Every morning my mother wakes me up by stroking my head and encouraging me to do good things, my neighborhood sympathizes with me by holding my hand towards great goals. It would not be wrong to say that my mother is the Ka`ba that has transferred this whiteness to my heart if my mother washed and combed it white. That's why this land, where my navel blood was spilled, taught me to have good intentions in my heart. He reminded me that someone's right is never someone else's, how much the concepts of patience and contentment in our people are ingrained in our blood.
Our ancestors, who glorified the Motherland and sacrificed their lives for it, taught us to love and honor the country. That is why Vatan is always used together with the word mother. My country is my mother...
What I used to call this country my homeland is my neighborhood. For me, my country is a threshold that encourages me to do all good deeds, and my neighborhood is my supporter. As our head of state noted, "For the first time in the history of our statehood, the concept of neighborhood has been included in our Constitution, and its place and status in the management of society has been determined." This status still holds its place and is increasing day by day. If we take the example of our neighborhood, all people live harmoniously. This is, of course, the solidarity of our neighbors. Of all people, especially our elderly people, people who need love often, and we, the boys and girls of our neighborhood, help them with their chores and lighten their burdens. I am always moved by their prayers for a long time when we perform trivial tasks, and first of all, they wish for peace in our country. Isn't that the greatest happiness? After all, isn't that what faith in the future is all about? It is not for nothing that the proverb "A golden apple is a prayer, a prayer is not gold" has been said in our people since time immemorial. These golden prayers motivate us to achieve great things. Science and sports of the youth of our country achievements in the field, when I hear or see about the medals won, my heart fills with excitement and tears roll in my eyes. I feel like I have seen the prayers of our elders answered.
I believe that it is the result of the attention given in our family and neighborhood so that we, the children of the country, can achieve such milestones. In our family, our old grandfathers take their young grandchildren to the garden every spring to plant seedlings. There is so much meaning behind this simple custom. A young child holds a sprout with his small hands and watches his grandfather's actions. Through this, the seed of goodness is planted in his heart together with the street. Even when he grows up, he repeats the habit he learned in his youth every spring. Even though our grandmothers are old, they embroider with needle and thread. Young little granddaughters are around them and try to sew. This simple effort opens the door to the virtues in them. As soon as our girls pick up a needle, they develop a high feeling called patience. The reason is that embroidery and sewing require special love and patience. With this one work, our grandmothers teach us to strengthen our patience in the face of life's hardships. When I see such high customs, the words of our president involuntarily ring in my ears: "Uzbek neighborhood has been a place of national values ​​since time immemorial. Mutual kindness, harmony and harmony, needy, receiving news from those who need help, patting the heads of orphans and widows, celebrating weddings, festivals and events with many people, being together in good times and in bad times, traditions and customs typical of our people. traditions, first of all, were formed and developed in the environment of the neighborhood."
During the years of independence, there are many of these age-old values ​​and characteristics of the neighborhood new tasks, obligations were added. The neighborhood's role, status, and powers in society were expanded. Each neighborhood had its own elder (chairman), counselor and guardians. Isn't this a proof that the Motherland of this neighborhood is a small Motherland? The neighborhood became a small state within a self-governing society. Isn't this a great gift of our independence? Neighborhood chairmen were elected by the votes of their fellow residents. Isn't this truth the fruit of freedom?
How many sacrifices did our people make until we reached these days. How many of our grandfathers' blood was not shed unjustly, you say? How many young men and our fathers were not mobilized for the war to protect and protect the honor of the Motherland?
When my grandfather often told us about the events of the war and famine days, what he heard and saw, he said, "to these days, thanks for our peaceful times, my child" they repeat over and over again.
Sometimes I think that the wrinkles on each of my grandfather's faces are a sign of his suffering. Indeed, the hardships my grandfather saw, the fact that he earned a living by studying and working at a young age, and that he did not back down from any hard work to help his parents, creates the image of a brave person for me. We have reached such glorious days today because of the sufferings and hardships they suffered in their times.
One day, my grandfather, who saw us eating bread in our hands in the streets of his happy grandchildren, immediately called them to him, picked up the fallen pieces of bread one by one and applied them to his eyes, and told us a story.
I have not seen this condition of my grandfather before. In my mind, the wrinkles on my grandfather's face seemed to multiply by one more. Although they were very offended by our cheerfulness, they did not speak harshly to us.
They say that it was very difficult to make a living as a child. Their fathers are early smithing till late, making tools for people. Sometimes they go to the workshop to help their father, and sometimes they hurry to work on the land of the collective farm to help their mother. They say that even at night, my mother was busy with some kind of sewing work, and she did not wake up until midnight. On one of those days, my mother, who did not wake up until midnight, was trying to bake bread in the early morning darkness. The breads of that time cannot be compared with the breads that you bake these days, my child. Even if the bread we were eating was black, we would rub it on our eyes. Because when I was a first-grader, I used to go to pick ears of corn together with my brothers and my friends from our neighborhood. The more whole and half ears that fell under the harvested wheat, the more we would be happy. The chairman of our collective farm used to put ears of corn on each child's skirt in return for his work. When I came home, the fact that my mother kissed me on the forehead and said "live, my child" was a great reward for me. My father used to put breadcrumbs in his eyes and thank himself over and over again.
Yesterday, on the eve of the "Day of Remembrance and Appreciation" in our school, we organized a meeting with our parents who welcomed 70-80 years old and even older people living in our district. At this meeting, I heard the memories of father Halim, who was a participant in the war, and once again witnessed how our grandfathers bravely overcame difficult times. Otakhan "My children, you live in the best of times. Do not see our days at all. Dear friends, I have seen people who lost their young life by eating kunjara out of helplessness. I will not compare those days even to my enemy. Beloved, these days are the most unequal days. You are a child of the best times. How many bloods have we shed, how many sacrifices have we made for these days. Cherish these days, my children. Study well and show the world that you are a child of the Uzbek people."
It was impossible to simply listen to these words. My whole body and soul shook. Tears came to my eyes and I remembered my grandfather's words, "Thank you, thank you for what you created."

Thanks to you, my creator, for your medicinal days.
Thank you, my helper, for giving me peace.
What we do is for you to salt the bread you have given us.
I leaned on you, thank you for taking care of us like that.
We always welcome you as my motherland. Because we see the Motherland in the symbols of our loving mothers and grandmothers.
Every time I go to see my grandmother, I stroke my forehead, pressing on his stomach, because if they have saved them, they will take them to the table. They hang the shirts and pillows that they made for me on purpose. Then a question comes to my mind. Whatever I do for my grandmother's compliments, her happiness rises. When I ask them, they say, "Son, you should come more often." Neighboring women often visit my grandmother. Some are there to learn the secrets of betting, and some are to avoid receiving advice. No matter what purpose someone went out for, grandmothers never turned them away. He always told women about patience and always said, "My girls, never give up on work. Your hard-earned, the happiest, sweetest bite. The more you patiently strive, the more riches you will receive.
Baby, say "OK" to everything your mother-in-law says. Never go against your moon. Honor the woman who treated you as her daughter, you will not be short. After all, this world is another world. What do you do?, it will come back to you tomorrow, my children."
If these words of wisdom always accompany each of our daughters, their future will be bright and their family will be heaven.
Listening to these words, I am involuntarily proud of my grandfather and grandmother. I always wish them health and life from the Creator.
In the end, I would like to conclude by saying that our elders are our angels. Their prayers are our companion. My grandparents are my pride. I am always proud of them.

Always be my torch in my life,
Be my lamp that illuminates my path.
Helper in the paths of life,
Be my prayer, my guardian amulet.

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