Text/Zhang Feng
- One of childhood memories
The wanderer is the kite that flies in the hometown, and the nostalgia is the invisible line that firmly ties the kite. After the age of knowing the destiny of heaven, the plot of homesickness has become increasingly strong, and the landscapes and rivers of the hometown, and the bits and pieces experienced in the hometown, often appear in front of the eyes, and they cannot be driven away.
In the late 1960s, the age of my schooling was up; that year, my brother was born, I had no one to take care of me, and my mother sent me to my grandmother's house to study. I was very happy at my grandmother's house, and my grandfather, grandmother, uncle and aunt loved me very much.
My grandmother's family was in the countryside, and what impressed me the most was that the yard was very large, there were six or seven jujube trees in the yard, and some of the trunks were very thick, and I couldn't hold my hands together. In addition, there are many houses, two rows of front and back, there are seven or eight, all of which are adobe walls, roofs covered with wheat straw, and two trips of green mud tiles are discharged from the eaves.
The village-run primary school is just west of my grandmother's house, one street away. There is an east-west river in the village, the water is not deep, the river is clear to the bottom, and you can see the small fish and shrimp swimming in the clear. Summer is a playground for our schoolchildren to play and play. It is the cradle that grew up with us.
Grandpa's hair and beard are silvery white, always with a kind smile, very kind to people. Grandpa smoked his own cigarette, the tobacco leaves are also planted by himself, the tobacco leaves are dried and kneaded into a cigarette powder, rolled into a thin end with paper, the other end is thick, Grandpa cigarettes carefully and skillfully.
When my grandfather was young, he was a treasurer in the local party surname landlord's house, and he wrote a beautiful brush and writing, which could play two abacuses with both hands at the same time, and the type was fast and accurate.
At that time, the whole country was in poverty, and there was a shortage of goods and food.
In order to teach me to write with a brush, my grandfather could not afford to buy pens, ink and paper, so he made a brush from a reed and a weasel tail hair, dipped in clear water and taught me to practice writing on a bluestone slab. While my grandfather taught me to write, he also told me that words are like people, and the importance of writing beautiful words. What I tell the most is the story of the Jin Dynasty calligrapher Wang Xianzhi learning to write with his father Wang Xizhi since he was a child.
I love to listen and I want to learn, but I don't know anything. In order to make me interested in learning the disk, my grandfather used a different string of number combinations, using multiplication and division to play pictograms such as "phoenix spreading wings, two dragon playing beads, and single dragon playing water" on the abacus.
Although Grandpa is usually kind and peaceful, he is principled and strong. That autumn, the aunt participated in the production team labor, is to turn the sweet potato seedlings, accidentally brought off a piece of egg-sized sweet potato, brought home to bake for me to eat, the result let the grandfather see, never seen the grandfather have such a big temper, blow the beard and stare, count the aunts, urge the aunt to hand over the sweet potatoes to the production team, and let the captain deduct the work points.
There are unpredictable storms in the sky, and people have bad luck and bad luck. In 1976, Grandpa died of illness and left us forever. That kind of heart-rending sorrow still makes my heart ache to this day, and the thought will continue for a long time.
Grandpa's story is still many, many more, his expectations of me continue, my feelings for him are still strong, Grandpa will always live in my heart.
Pray that Grandpa will no longer be subjected to the hardships of the world in heaven, peace with nature, and peace of soul!
Winter 2019
About the Author:
Zhang Feng, male, pen name, Yike; post-60s, Tengzhou, Shandong Province, is now engaged in biological scientific research work, has a number of invention patents "China Poetry Network" Blue V poet, "Young Writers Network" contract writers, "Capital Literature Editorial Board".
He has worked as a journalist and editor in Hainan media; he has published more than 600 essays, reportage literature and poems in newspapers and periodicals such as "Poetry Journal", "China Poetry Network", "China Cooperation Times", "Ta Kung Pao", "Haikou Evening News", "Sartorial Zone Daily", "Today's Headlines", "Shandong Literature", "Qingfeng", "Times Literature", "Shandong Poetry", "Dazhong Daily", "Shandong Youth Daily", "Qilu Evening News", "Baoli", "Zaozhuang Daily" and other newspapers and periodicals, and has won many awards, including a variety of books and periodicals, and published a collection of poems "" Seven-colored rainbow".
One Point Stagecoach