The New House on Maple Street

My family moved to a new country last year.

At first, I felt lost because I could not speak the language.

My mother found a small house on Maple Street.

The neighbors smiled at us, but I was too shy to talk.

One day, a girl named Lily knocked on our door.

She gave me some cookies and said hello.

Slowly, I learned new words from her.

We played games and shared stories about our old homes.

Now I have two places in my heart.

I am happy here, and I still remember my first country.