HAPPINESS

It was almost nightfall, torrents of rain fell and I was drenched to the bone.  I arrived at a small village. I had to find a hearth where I could dry out. The streets were desserted deserted; I saw nobody there, just the dogs who scent smelled a stranger`s breath; they started barking as soon as they saw me. The peasants in this village were wild. I hesitated at every door but i did not dare to knock them.

I wanted somebody to take me home; I imagined of somebody walking at up to me and feeding me, however there were no such a person. 
 
Suddenly, I saw an open door at the end of the village. I looked in, and I could watch see an old woman cooking without making a sound. It seemed fine, so I entered until i reached the fire and sat down at the fire. The old lady was stirring the meal with a wooden spoon. Right then she said nothing to me, and but took off my jacket. That`t was the moment that I sensed felt happiness from my feet to my shins. I inhaled the fragrance of the steam rising from the pot.
Once more i realized to what extent happiness is made to by the measure of man.
Happines is not a rare bird we must pursue at moment in heaven. Happiness is a domestic bird in our own courtyard.

HAPPINESS

It was almost nightfall and it rained torrents of rain. I was drenched to the bone. I arrived at a small village. I had to find a hearth where I could dry off. The streets were deserted and I saw no one there apart from the dogs who smell strangers' breath; they started barking as soon as they saw me. The peasants were wild and I hesitated at every door but i did not dare to knock.

I wanted somebody to take me home. I imagined somebody walking toward me and feeding me, however there was no such a person.

Suddenly I saw an open door at the end of the village. I looked in and could see an old woman cooking. Not a sound. All seemed fine, so I entered. I walked until i reached the fire and sat down. The old lady was stirring the meal with a wooden spoon. She said nothing to me and I took off my jacket. I sensed happiness from my feet to my shins as I inhaled the fragrance of the steam rising from the pot.

Once more I realized that hapiness is the measure of man. 
Happines is not a rare bird we must pursue in heaven. Happiness is a domestic bird in our own courtyard.

In some sentences I couldnt understand your point exactly, but you paint a nice picture with words. Cool story.