On Sunday, we went to the grave. At the foot of the mountain, I saw rows of low trees. I can't help but wonder, "what kind of tree is this, mom?"
Mother said: "this is the tea tree. If you want to pick tea, you need to pick its head. It's the bud in two small leaves." I took the bag and picked up the tea. I carefully picked a piece of tea, soon I picked a lot.
When we got home, my mother and I took the pot and fried the tea. After that, we soaked it for Dad to drink, and said, "this is the tea that I picked by myself. Have a drink." Dad took a drink and said, "it's so fragrant!" I smiled happily.