People want to answer the question they find

It used to be a shame to wear ripped, not patched. Just as; as it is a shame not to know, but not to learn.

We grew up with patched clothes. But we never walked around with ripped stitches. My mother used to say that the one who does not have the old one does not know. And we valued our old ones. We wouldn't throw anything away just because there was a small rip or tear.

My mother used to say that a woman is the most skillful mechanic, and she used to tell me how valuable not money but labor and sweat is.

Yes, the woman was once the most skillful mechanic. What a great skill to be able to fix it. Now, since there is no mind to repair and repair, nothing has any value anymore.

However, it is easiest to throw away something that is old. The important thing is to be able to fix it. The piece of patched sack you see is the sack in which we put our bulgur forty years ago. How many places had it been torn apart and how many times had my mother patched it? And I still keep it today. That blue striped patch on it, for example, is the piece from my brother's pajamas. The other colorful fabric is the remaining part of my dress. Those are the most precious memories of our childhood.

Ready-made clothing was either not cheap or we did not have the purchasing power in the past. There was a tailor in every neighborhood, and we used to give these tailors print fabrics and have them sew festive dresses with a yoke or a frilly skirt. My mother also kept the leftover fabrics. Just in case your dress gets old, we'll patch it. There are still small scraps of fabric reserved for patching, in the bottom corner of my dowry chest.

The old lands were neither self-sacrificing, nor frugal. And how much they value their labor and sweat. We used to wear colorful nylon shoes. My mother used to fry the torn part of the iron knife in the fire, bring the torn part end to end and cauterize it with a hot iron. We'd wait until it got cold, and then we'd keep wearing it for months with just one patched shoe. Whereas now our homes are full of boxes of shoes. We have become a total consumer monster. No more worn-out clothes. Our closets full of unworn clothes with the tag on it. And that's why we don't appreciate it.

We used to carefully cut the buttons, hooks, zippers (ratchets) on our clothes that were not wearable, cut them off and put them in the chest to be used in other clothes.

We did not know how great a skill it was to repair it.

My mother used to say that getting offended, offended, bickering is the spice of marriage. Small things were not magnified as they are now. There was tinkering. The repair of the broken heart was also an apology, forgiveness, and tolerance. Mankind was such a perfect creation; He also had the power to mend broken hearts if he wanted to. However, for this, it was necessary to love, value and repair.

Is it so now? We either throw away or change almost everything before it gets old. In fact, we didn't just change the items. We moved away from the mechanic mentality to such an extent that; We throw our parents in nursing homes because they are old, and we end our marriages in courtrooms before our henna fades.

Repairing, being constructive, apologizing, and tolerating are no more in this era.

Time is the end time. If you're you, I'm mine. We did not value our loved ones as much as our vehicles lying in front of our door. When there is a problem with our vehicle, we immediately run to the industry and look for a repairman, but we never try to find solutions to repair the broken hearts of our loved ones.

Oh my beautiful mother and dear father. It turns out that every single word of yours, which we once ignored, is invaluable and very valuable.

Don't you know that; Those who do not have a history cannot write history. So what do we call history?

It's our past, it's our past. In fact, every item in our house is a history. The history of our experiences. The most veteran witnesses of our past lives. Let me ask you, which of these witnesses is in your house? And our most recent history is our parents.

There is a question within a question and an answer within an answer.

Life is a vicious circle with questions and answers

People want to answer the question they find

The answers don't quite satisfy him.

A person suffices as much as he is satisfied

Those who are satisfied are usually the most harmless.

Those who are not satisfied either make it or break it one by one

Conscious constructiveness is the key to quality life

The door of non-constructive people is closed

Closed doors are like eyes that don't see

We are in such a world where the minister sees a lot.

It can't be reversed, the reverse of the world is so bad

The one who sees much is the building block of consciousness that sees little.

Eyes that don't see can feel happiness

He who hears happiness can think of it

The thinker can sense happiness

Happiness means a whole life

Can't see, can't hear

Yet sensible happiness is an intuition

Seeing, hearing, thinking comes later.

Even thinking is the work of this intuition.

Sensing and feeling is everything

People are something in everything

Something is hidden inside everything

Happiness is alive, whose intuition is hidden within us.

Living happiness strengthens intuition.

Believing lurks inside us

We believe what we can answer

Immature thoughts are a hanger

Immature thoughts don't stay long on the hanger

Consciousness pays due respect to suspense

Time is a breathtaking silent saw

Their hangers wear out the burdens of unconsciousness

We can't believe we can't give you the answer

Misconceptions take a percent of a life

If we become conscious, we will be free from misconceptions.

Hangers should have room for necessities

Questions that are right know the answers

Our shortcomings are a minority of what we know.

We should not forget that if we do not take lessons from the past, our future children, that is, our future history, will take revenge on us.