How My Mother Taught Me To Use Firewood.

My mother didn't have gas cooker. Her kitchen was three stones and dry firewoods.

At first, I thought making fire was easy. Just strike match and my mother laughed when the match went off. I tried again and again and again and I couldn't make it.

My mother now taught me step by step;

The Wood Matters.
She told me that not every wood burns.
She taught me to pick dry wood that sounds kpam when you break it. Wet wood will just bring smoke and tears.

Arrangement Is Everything.
Small dry leaves first.
Then tiny sticks.
Then bigger wood on top.
Give fire air to breathe, she would say. She was right. Fire needs air.

Patience.
I wanted to pour kerosene and rush it.
She said, if you rush fire, you will cook with smoke.
So we would blow gently, not too hard, until the flame caught.

Today I have gas, but I still know how to make fire with firewoods. It's not just cooking. It's survival, it's patience, it's memory.

My mother taught me that if you can make fire from nothing, you can never go hungry and with my experiences in life, I can agree with her.

What did your mother teach you in the kitchen?

https://ecency.com/@daily.prompt/15-september-2026-freewriters-community-daily-writing-prompt-day-3227-easy-peasy