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Contemporary prose | jujube tree

Text/Liu Hongli

Contemporary prose | jujube tree

There is a jujube tree in the southeast corner of the old yard.

The jujube tree was transplanted here later, it was originally just a small jujube tree with the thickness of a thumb on the slope of the parapet behind the house, planted at home not because it can bear dates, nor it has a spiraling branch, it is an old jujube tree in the current location, and the village planning sawed it off. Every time I go back to my hometown, I always feel that there is something missing there, so I transplanted the current tree.

That old jujube tree was ordinary and legendary. It was very tall: the tree was two cubits thick, two thick branches like the arms of a giant, and the canopy was like a large open umbrella. There is a deep crack in the middle of the tree, legend has it that this tree originally had three branches, the village bully wanted to cut down the tree to make rafters, when it was cut in half, suddenly a thunderbolt, split the branch and smashed the village bully, the tree left this scar, the truth of the story is unknown.

No one in the village knew how old it was, it was said that it existed when the village was built, and the old people said that when they were young, the tree was already the same tall and stout.

The old jujube tree grew very silently. It always spits out tender green on the branches after the blossoms of the apricot peach have fallen, as if to inquire whether spring has really come. In May, rows of golden flowers protrude from the green, emitting a burst of jujube flowers, passing by always involuntarily taking a few deep breaths, and bees will join in the fun at this time. Actually, it doesn't bear many dates, maybe it's really too old.

In my memory, it seems that no one has watered or fertilized it, and broken down the branches that are obstructing the matter, which is considered to be pruning it. It grows there silently, as if recalling hundreds of years of experience.

The time when the old jujube tree really plays its value is after autumn. After the autumn harvest, the house was full of corn with skins, afraid that it would be moldy on the ground, leaving two or three pieces of corn husks when peeling, four tied together, and when I saved more, I handed them to my mother on the ladder, and my mother handed them to my father on the tree, and then I lined them up one by one to the date trees, and the corn that was crowded together was like a military formation returning from victory, waiting to be reviewed. Occasionally, my father found a ripe "fish that slipped through the net" and would always throw it at me, and the date was really soft and sweet. After eating the dates, he begged his father to look for them again, but he said that surprises would not happen at any time. Later, when I grew up and experienced some things, every time I thought of that sentence, there was still some truth.

Contemporary prose | jujube tree

The most impressive thing is still the "turning date tree". Every year before the fifteenth day of the first month, the family will always prepare a lantern for us, some of which are made by ourselves, and more of which are bought. My lantern was made by my father, who found a log board with a diameter of fifteen centimeters and a thickness of about one centimeter as a base, nailed a nail in the middle of the board to fix the candle, and then evenly hit four eyes around the plank to put on the aluminum wire, at a height of about twenty-five centimeters, four aluminum wires were folded to the middle, twisted together when it was about five centimeters, and then made an "8" aluminum wire ring, connected the lantern and the wooden handle together, put on the purchased lantern skin, and a simple lantern was ready.

In the evening, with a few small lanterns began our work, going door to door to turn the date tree to people, three circles on the left and three circles on the right, and there were words in the mouth, and the specific nagging was forgotten, it should be hoping to have more dates. After getting a few pieces of sugar, I went to the next one, and although I was tired and dry-tongued, I was very happy to see the sugar cubes in my pocket.

Contemporary prose | jujube tree

My family's old jujube tree always turns at the end, in order to show sincerity to the tree, I made an appointment with the hair boys to be in line with the steps and words, and when we turned halfway, an uncle who was visiting the door suddenly said, you see what is under the lantern, and when we turn over the lantern to find out, we find that we have been deceived: the lantern skin makes the candle burn. Finally, he asked for a few more pieces of sugar before he gave up.

Suddenly found that the jujube tree is lonely, the original teenager is no longer young, retreated from the glitz of the body, twisted open the book of life, found that life is not easy, and do and cherish.

(Image from the Internet)

Sponsored by the Shandong Provincial Prose Literature Society, Contemporary Prose is a bimonthly prose journal, which mainly publishes the works of members of the Shandong Provincial Prose Literature Association, and welcomes Shandong prose writers to apply to join the Shandong Provincial Prose Association. The Shandong Provincial Prose Literature Association holds various prose activities throughout the year to provide book publishing services for writers. Submission email: [email protected], [email protected]

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