My Rose
My hometown is a small mine, the people there are particularly simple and hardworking, they are working every day on the construction of the country a hundred miles underground, but few people remember them, and no one has ever paid attention to their lives, but they are so uncomplaining, day after day, year after year, with their own hands in the sunless underground digging out a piece of coal with warmth and hope, these lovely miners often say: It doesn't matter how hard they work, as long as they live and make a contribution to our country, they are satisfied. Today I would like to talk about a special group of miners in this big collective - mine hand selectors, most of the personnel of this group are female workers, I call them "mine roses" because, in my heart, they are the most beautiful, the most lovely mine Roses.