Kako Se Crta Kuca -

"Now for the roof," her grandfather continued. "We draw a big triangle sitting right on top of the square. This is the hat of the house. It protects the family from the heavy rain and gives the birds a place to rest their wings." Ana drew the triangle, her tongue sticking out in deep concentration.

He gently guided her hand to the bottom of the page. "First, we draw a big square. These are the walls. They need to be strong to keep out the winter cold and hold all the laughter inside." Ana carefully traced the four lines, making a slightly lopsided but perfect square.

The old man smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He set his cup down and leaned over the table. "Well, my little artist," he said. "Every house starts with a strong foundation, just like a story." Kako Se Crta Kuca

Her grandfather pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. "You see, Ana," he said quietly. "To draw a house, you only need lines. But to make it a home, you fill it with love. And you have just drawn the most beautiful home in the world." To help you with your own drawing or storytelling project:

"But a house cannot be dark," the old man whispered, tapping the center of the paper. "We need windows. Two small squares right here. They let the golden sunshine in and allow you to look out and see when the spring flowers are blooming." Ana added the windows, drawing a little cross inside each one to make the glass panes. "Now for the roof," her grandfather continued

"And finally, the most important part," he said, pointing to the bottom center of the square. "The door. A tall rectangle. This is where we welcome our friends, where we hug our family when they come home, and where we keep our hearts safe."

She looked up at her grandfather, who was sipping coffee across from her. "Deda," she asked in her soft voice, "Kako se crta kuća?" (Grandpa, how do you draw a house?) It protects the family from the heavy rain

Little Ana sat at the wooden kitchen table, her small hand gripping a yellow pencil. In front of her was a blank sheet of paper, glowing under the warm afternoon light.