Those words became her compass. Lena decided she wouldn’t just let the windmill rot away. She would bring it back to life. The first few months were grueling. She spent her weekends and evenings researching windmill restoration, watching videos, and poring over old blueprints.
She enlisted help from anyone who would offer it—a retired carpenter from the village, a local metalworker, even her younger brother who was more skilled with a hammer than she was. Bit by bit, they rebuilt what had been lost
Replacing the blades was the hardest part. Each one had to be carefully crafted and balanced so the windmill could turn again. There were days when Lena thought it would never happen, days when the project felt too big, too impossible. But she kept going, driven by her grandfather’s words.
As she worked, she began to notice the small details that had been hidden under years of neglect: the delicate iron hinges on the doors, the intricate wooden gears inside, and a small, hand-carved box she found tucked away in a corner. Inside the box was a letter from her grandfather. It read: “The windmill has always been a part of our family, but it’s more than just a building. It’s a reminder that even when things seem broken, they can be made whole again—with care, patience, and love.”