Stone Age

Hello there. My name is Una, and I want to tell you about my life from long, long ago. My family and I lived in a big, cozy cave. The walls were hard and cool, and it kept us safe and warm from the wind. We did not have houses like you do today. Instead, our home was a special place in the side of a big hill. We used stones for almost everything. We put stones around our fire to keep it warm for cooking and telling stories. My father used stones to make tools to help us. Our cave was our happy home, and we all lived there together with our family.

Every day was an adventure. In the morning, I would help my mother gather sweet red berries from the bushes in the forest. They tasted like sunshine. Sometimes, I would watch my father get a big stone and a little stone. He would tap them together, chip, chip, chip, until one stone was very sharp. He used it to help us cut our food. After helping, I would play with my brother by the sparkling river. We would splash our feet in the cool water and try to catch the little fish swimming by. At night, we would all sit by the warm fire inside our cave and feel safe together.

My favorite part of the day was when I got to tell stories on our walls. I would find soft, colored rocks, like red and brown ones, and use them like crayons. On the big walls of our cave, I would draw pictures of the things I saw outside. I drew big, woolly mammoths with long, curly tusks and graceful deer that jumped through the tall grass. This was how my family remembered our days and shared our stories with each other. Even though I lived a very long time ago, our pictures on the walls can still tell you about our happy life.