In the calm foothills of the Himalayas, where the mornings are kissed by the gentle caress of mist and the evenings glint with the gold of setting sun, there lived a young girl named Ashi Nicawa.

Her home, a charming cottage nestled among the trees, was filled with the tempting smell of spices and fresh herbs. The kitchen is a vibrant space, with colorful tiles and a wooden table cluttered with ingredients.

ASHI NICAWA, a twelve-year-old girl with a passion for cooking, vibrate softly as she prepares a dish. Her GRANDMOTHER, a gentle woman with a warm smile, is seated at the table, surrounded by knitting supplies.

“Grandma, this apple pie is going to be perfect!” Ashi’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she added touch of sweet woody flavor of cinnamon. “I think my classmates will love it.”

Her grandmother looked up, her smile deepening with pride. “Cinnamon always adds a wonderful aroma. You’ve really got a talent for this, Ashi.”

Ashi’s cheeks flushed with delight. "I hope my classmates think so too. I’m bringing it to school for them today.”

A little while later, as Ashi packed her pie.

"I be going grandma." ashi standing in the door way. " Ok dear, be carefull on your way of school and cross the road carefully, Bye."

Ashi had always been eager to help others, even if it meant sacrificing her own time. That morning, her teacher had asked her to deliver some notebooks to the staff room.

“Yes, ma’am,” Ashi replied with her usual enthusiasm, her steps quickening as she made her way to the staff room.

After delivering the notebooks, the teacher said, "Thanks, Ashi. It's already break time. Go and eat your lunch with your friends; they must be waiting for you."

“Yes, ma’am,” Ashi responded, her smile hopeful as she walked back to her classroom.

Students headed to their favorite spot to eat lunch, while others started playing in the playground. The school was filled with the noise of students. Some of them were running down the hallway.

Inside the classroom, a group of students huddled together, whispering among themselves.

"Here she comes again," one student whispered. "She's going to ask us to eat lunch with her, but we should decline."

Another student asked, "Why? It would be fun if we all ate together."

“You don’t get it,” the first student replied, a hint of disdain in their voice. “She cooks her lunch by herself.”

"Really? That's cool,".

"Cool? What's so cool about it?".

"Well, it's impressive that she knows how to cook. We're the same age, and we can't even cut vegetables properly, but she can cook."

"That's the problem," the first student said, a hint of disdain in their voice.

"What do you mean?", confused.

“That’s the problem,” the first student sighed. “Last year, she shared her lunch with a classmate, and he ended up in the hospital with a severe stomachache.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Really?” the second student’s eyes widened in shock.

As the bell rang, Ashi approached her classmates with a hopeful look. "Hey guys, want to eat lunch together? I brought something special today. Would you like to share it with me?"

The students exchanged uneasy glances before one of them spoke up. “Sorry, Ashi, we already have plans. Maybe some other time?”

Ashi's smile faltered, and she replied quietly, "Okay."

That evening, Ashi sat alone in her room, her eyes red from crying. She called out softly, “Grandma.”

Her grandmother rushed to her side, concern etched on her face.

“What’s wrong, my dear? Did something happen at school? Did someone hurt you? Tell me his name, and Grandma will make sure he regrets making you cry."

"Why does everyone hate my cooking?" Ashi sobbed. "I try so hard every day, but none of my classmates want to share their lunch with me. Why?"

Her grandmother gently hugged her. “Oh, sweet girl, they don’t hate your cooking. They’re just jealous of you.”

“Jealous?” Ashi asked, her tears pausing in confusion.

"Yes," her grandmother explained. "They are jealous because they can't cook like you do. They don’t even know how to hold a knife properly, but you do."

"But I can teach them if they ask," Ashi said, her voice filled with sadness. "But they don’t come near me. They hate my cooking. How am I supposed to teach them if they don’t come near me?"

"You don’t have to," her grandmother said softly.

"Huh?"

Her grandmother warm her heart gently with her thoughts "You’ve tried so hard, Ashi. But remember, not everyone will appreciate your gift right away".

Ashi said. pouting"But why not? I just want to share something I love."

Her grandmother stroked her hair soothingly."Sometimes, it takes a while for people to see the value in what’s special to you. Don’t give up.If they don’t appreciate your cooking, find others who will. There are people out there who will value your talent and your friendship,”

Ashi looked up at her grandmother, a flicker of hope returning to her eyes."Is there really someone who likes my cooking?"

"Yes," her grandmother assured her. "If you don’t give up and keep trying, I’m sure you will find someone who will want to share their lunch with you every day."

Ashi looking determined."I won’t give up grandma, I promise one day. I will make a friend who eat their lunch with me everyday."

Her grandmother took her hand. "It's dinner time. Let’s make our meal together."

"Yes, Grandma," Ashi said, a small smile returning to her face. "Today, I want to learn how to make curry. Will you teach me?"

"Of course," her grandmother replied warmly. "I’ll teach you everything you want to know."

And so, as the evening deepened into night, the warmth of the kitchen was filled with the comforting sounds of cooking, laughter, and love.

To be continue..........