The writer/practitioner is exclusive
The monsoon wind blows through the northern plains of the earth, it must be the spring and summer season, the wind in the willow technology, the sound of the brushing of the waves, in the sun, with the smell of dirt, grass, crops warm, wash away people's hearts and lungs, the body is like naked in the blue sky, white clouds, fields, washed and washed, feeling the vastness and strength of this land, the heart is already drunk.
All childhood memories of my hometown are painted with a faint warm color. Every picture, every fragment, with a warm local flavor, is full of kindness and simple love.
Since childhood, I left my hometown, went to the city, and later enlisted in the army as a soldier, and my hometown is like a clear and blurry painting, sometimes shaking in front of my eyes, touching a certain nerve of mine, going so far, but never out of the childhood dream.
Second uncleHe may be in his sixties this year, and I think of the fact that there is always an unspeakable taste in his heart, that he is the only honest man in my impression who can be called.
That year, I couldn't find a job and was unemployed at home, so I was depressed and stepped on the train to my hometown.
The train came to the station to greet me by my second uncle, who drove a donkey cart, draped in a thick old sheepskin coat, and holding a long whip in his hand. Seeing that I greeted me happily, he took the luggage and put it on the donkey cart, and as soon as I sat on the car gang, he took off his coat and put it on me, saying that the country wind was hard. It was almost May, and I was wrapped in a heavy sheepskin coat, sitting on a dangling donkey cart, looking at the endless fields, breathing in the cool air, feeling the nostalgia that had been missing for a long time.
At this meeting, I felt that my second uncle was much older and had stubble all over his face. The second uncle was very ugly, and two front teeth grew out of his mouth, and he could see it with his mouth closed. Because the family did not have much money, I have not been able to say that I have a daughter-in-law.
When I was still in elementary school, my second uncle came down from the countryside to the city and said that he wanted his father to find a hospital and straighten his front teeth. When I was a child, I didn't understand things, and when I saw people from my hometown, I felt uncomfortable. Because they were worn and dirty, they still had a bad smell on their bodies. The same was true of the second uncle, who fed the horses in the production team with a strong and pungent smell of horse dung on his shoes. He wasn't very much of a talker, and when my brother and I talked to him, he always blushed, changed his shoes with horse dung smell, and washed them again and again. Even though we had a hard time talking, he never told our parents about us.
Because the second uncle's front teeth are too large, but also past the age of being able to pull out the correction, the hospital does not have a very good way, and finally just pulled out a slender tooth in the middle of his two front teeth, and the two long front teeth were shortened, as a remedy, when grinding, it can not grind to the tooth nerve, only grind down a little, the effect is not great. In order to make the front teeth better, the second uncle pressed his hand the protruding front teeth every day, trying to press the front teeth back to the normal position. After all, the teeth are still stubbornly protruding outwards, hindering the beauty of the second uncle's face...
I sat on my second uncle's donkey cart, looking at the wide field, my eyes full of green, and my heart was indescribably happy. I snatched the whip from my second uncle's hand, raised my hand to learn the way the second uncle used the whip to smoke the donkey's back, and let the donkey cart run wild on the dirt road in the countryside, shouting incessantly: "My hometown is so beautiful!" The old home is so beautiful! The second uncle was not infected by my passion at all, he just smiled and said, "What is beautiful about this?" Except that heaven is earth. ”
It was getting late in the village, and my grandmother's house was full of people, all of whom were relatives who came to see me from the city. The second uncle's house was open and out of the house, and he distributed the cigarettes and candy I brought from the city to the villagers. With a rare smile on his face, it seemed that I had relatives in the city, and I was very proud.
The dishes of my hometown are particularly fragrant. As soon as the hall house entered the door, there was a large stove on the left and right sides, two large iron pots were embedded in the stove, enough to cook more than ten people's meals, uncles and grandmothers used corn stalks to heat the pot, the kang in the house also heated up, sitting on the top of the warm.
At that time, the city's stir-fry dishes were all made of gas cans, small pots for cooking, and stir-frying rarely put soy sauce. In the countryside, it is different, and the stove is burned with a large bellows, which is made of wood, sealed rectangular, and has a handle at the front end. When the fire is burned, it is necessary to keep pushing and pulling, just like pumping, pumping the air into the bellows, blowing into the stove pit, and the firewood lit in the stove pit is burning more and more vigorously. When the fire is burned, first dry the corn stalks with leaves, take out a section, light them with matches, throw them into the stove pit, the flames burn, and quickly add firewood to them.
I thought it was funny, so I rushed to sit in front of the stove and add firewood to the stove while constantly pulling the bellows. Feeling that it was not strong enough, he pulled hard with both hands, and the bellows whistled, and the fire burned more and more vigorously. The smoke in the house, the smell of firewood and the smell of hot meals make people feel a special breath of life. Cut the meat and cabbage, by dim light, down to the large pot on the stove, stir-fry eight ripe, pour some soy sauce, the old pipe soy sauce is called "clear sauce", the unique aroma through the smoke, it is really tempting.
In the evening, he and his grandmother, uncle and relatives sat around the big earth kang, eating vegetables and drinking a few glasses of loose wine brewed by the village. After drinking and eating, I suddenly lay on the hot kang, which felt not to mention how comfortable it was. This is home, a place that makes you feel solid and warm inside.
The next morning, I got up, breathed in the cool air, and came with my second uncle to my uncle's house at the east end of the village. The big concubine is a cheerful person, usually likes to smoke two dry cigarettes, sit on the kang, always have a dustpan with tobacco around her, and hold a slender cigarette bag pot in her hand. After seeing my happy greeting, she turned her head to look at the second uncle standing aside, pointed at him with a long cigarette bag, and half-jokingly said that they were all in their thirties, and they couldn't find a daughter-in-law and didn't grow up, and the stubble on their faces made people look like people in their forties. In order to add to the fun, I told the eldest concubine about just getting off the train yesterday, and I saw the second uncle holding a long whip to catch the train, which I had never seen in the city, and I was very curious. The pole of the whip is woven from a long, soft wicker, the whip rope is woven of cowhide, and the junction of the pole and the whip is tied with red cherry blossoms. When driving the horse, the second uncle raised his whip in the air, and when he shook it vigorously, a crisp sound would be emitted above his head. As long as the thin whip is gently swept on the back of the donkey, the donkey will be excited, hooves up, and strive forward, the formation is not mighty.
The second uncle saw that I liked the whip, so he took me to the county market to buy a new pole to send me. In front of a stall, the second uncle looked for a price, felt expensive, and then said to the whip seller that he had been driving for decades, and had never heard of this price. After the second uncle walked past the stall, the stall owner asked me, "How old is this old man?" "I can't laugh and cry.
Listening to my words, the eldest concubine and the people in the room couldn't help but laugh, and the second uncle also laughed, but laughed very unnaturally. My heart twitched a little, the joy of telling the joke just now was gone, who would want to let others say that he looked like an old man in his sixties!?
Back at my grandmother's house, the second uncle found scissors, looked at the mirror with a plain expression, and carefully cut off the beard on his face. The face is clean, and the person is much younger. Because I felt a little uneasy at the time, this matter has always been remembered in my heart.
In my impression, I don't know what it's like for my second uncle to get angry, he always smiles sheepishly. I only heard the people in the village say that the old aunt was the sister of the second uncle, and when talking with the old uncle of the young man in the village, the old aunt who the second uncle beat cried for a whole day. The second uncle also cried, saying that the old aunt had disgraced the family and could not marry out to find it in this village. In the hometown, because the living standards in the village are not very rich, girls look for a partner in the village, which makes people see it as a manifestation of incompetence. He didn't say that he had a daughter-in-law, and his sister was like this, and the second uncle was definitely uncomfortable in his heart.
Time passed, many years passed, the second uncle was still alone, the mother said, others introduced several objects to the second uncle, all because he looked ugly, and people also grew older and did not talk about success. I have never believed that such a kind person can be loved by no woman.
It also confirms that the saying that good people always have good rewards. That was after many years as a soldier, and then I returned to my hometown. When I saw my second uncle again, my second uncle was married, and he had a lot of energy and a lot of weight, and he could see the joy and satisfaction in his heart from his face. The second concubine is the second uncle who took this child to find after the widow. Although the second concubine is a rural person, she herself does small business, has some savings, and is also very good, and after marrying the second uncle, her life is very happy, her family is well-off, and the people in the village are very envious. The eldest concubine had died of illness, or she would be happy for her second uncle.
Honestly, it is no longer a fashionable word of this era. As I grew older, the image of my second uncle often appeared in my mind, and I thought of him when I thought of my hometown.
As soon as I picked up the pen, I remembered whether the names of grandpa and grandma were put together. Because they were divorced in the early days of the founding of the country, and as long as they bumped into each other, they beat and scolded. Originally under the same roof, it became the biggest enemy in the world. But I decided to use this topic anyway, because they were my grandfather and grandmother after all.
I've always wanted to write a family history, and I think it will be valuable, because that legendary experience contains too many bitter tears and blood drops. Mentioning Grandpa and Grandma, I think of Mo Yan's novel "Red Sorghum", the same era, the same background. My grandmother did not have the romance and boldness of the grandmother in the novel, and my grandmother was a typical traditional Chinese woman, uneducated and illiterate. In the old days, women did not take names, only surnames, and Grandma did not even have her own name, she had bitter experiences and bitter water.
Grandpa and Grandma were only fifteen or sixteen years old when they got married, when men and women were not intimate, their parents arranged, and neither of them had seen each other before the cave house. Grandpa was young because he was literate and worked as a clerk in the village. After the outbreak of the War of Resistance Against Japan, he joined the guerrillas. Grandma had six children, and Dad was the second.
In the turbulent days, Grandma struggled to raise the child alone. The Japanese devils came, Grandpa moved with the team, grandma said it was an escape, leaving her and the child behind. The village was able to escape, the old people, children and women who could not escape all hid in the wheat field, and the grandmother painted her face black with ash, so that even if the Japanese devils caught it, they would see a face of dust and could not see the appearance, and they might have escaped the disaster. At that time, there was only Dahe and Dad, and in order to escape the sweep of the Japanese devils, Grandma and her children had to lie on their stomachs in the wheat fields for a day or two.
Although the family could not open the pot, Grandpa still insisted on providing for the big and dad to go to school, and he knew that literacy could become an official. Seeing that there were more and more children in the family, Grandpa was anxious, there was no family planning and no contraception at that time. Grandpa was anxious and got angry at Grandma and hit Grandma. Later, at the instigation of relatives and friends, he divorced his grandmother in the county and became a divorced family in the county where the divorce law was restored after the liberation of the country.
Grandpa soon married his grandmother, who had a long foot in culture, and he never took care of his six children again. In order to raise them, Grandma wanted it from the East Family and borrowed it from the West Family. The family really couldn't open the pot, and they went to the village to ask for food. For the sake of the children, he married his grandfather in a neighboring village shortly after the divorce. At this time, the most pitiful thing is the father, they are like orphans who have no one to take care of, they entered the society early, and they paid for the bitterness of the world at a young age. Grandpa had bought his father to others twice, as a child adoptive son-in-law who came to the door, but he was forced by the pressure of his neighbors to ask for it back.
When Dad was a child, there were no shoes to wear in winter, the big toes of one foot, the nail cover was frozen off, the nail cover was soft, and the bone under the flesh skin became the mark of the poor life in the early years. Since then, Dad's soul has been deeply branded with the sense of distress, whether it is when life is difficult, or later life becomes better, he has devoted himself to his work and career, has not given himself a little breathing, and kept doing things to make him feel a little stable. As time passed and as he grew older, Dad understood Grandpa's past more and more. But the wounds brought to him by his early life are difficult to heal for a lifetime.
Whenever the past is mentioned, Grandma's gaze will become dim, accompanied by a long sigh, the circles of her eyes are red, and when she mentions the past, her father's eye circles are also red. The sigh of milk, like the sound of a wounded animal, in that voice, it seems to be the lament of being abandoned by life, weak and hopeless.
In the old days, women were beautiful with small feet, and when a woman was born, her parents would wrap her feet tightly with a shroud, and her toes were curled together and slowly became deformed little feet. I can't run or walk fast, and I can't walk in a flash. The foot-wrapped cloth wrapped in feet, like the shackles of the old times, bound to Grandma's fate to death. As a weak woman, squeezed by feudal traditions, she bears the burden of life that should not have been borne by her alone.
During the three years of natural disasters, when my mother and father were married, it was said that when they got married, they only had two cents, and this money may have been brought by my mother from my mother's house. The mother's family was more generous than the father's, the Cultural Revolution was composed of kulaks, and the father's family was a poor peasant. Dad can marry mom, belongs to Gao Pan. At that time, Dad had already joined the army as a soldier, and there were several underage siblings in the family who needed to be pulled (raised). The family could not open the pot, there was no food, Grandma and Mother, wearing patched clothes, carrying baskets, went from village to village to beg for food.
It was really bitter! Others say that Grandma has suffered most of her life, and when she is old, she can enjoy the blessings, several sons are older, and Dad is also a little bit of a person, and he is the only person in the village who has been on the county record. Grandma always nodded her head and said yes, but I know in my heart that the suffering that Grandma has suffered in her life is difficult for ordinary people to understand, and Lao Laifu is just a comfort to her, how many days can she still enjoy in the world?!
The most impressive thing is that Grandma talked about her own hands, Grandma's left middle finger, when cooking and cutting vegetables when she was young, she accidentally cut off a finger with a kitchen knife. Watching Grandma stretch out the palm of her old and rough palm that had lost one finger, her heart would hurt, and ten fingers would be connected to her heart. At that time, there was no money to go to the hospital, and Grandma had to wrap her injured fingers with a cloth. Grandma said she couldn't sleep in pain, got up at night, put on her clothes, and circled the courtyard all night long. The cold moonlight of the imagination illuminated the lonely and helpless figure of Grandma, and the two small feet that had been wrapped in feet when they were children supported their thin bodies. One hand was holding the other arm, which had just lost one finger, and the body was dangling back and forth. The heartache was only borne silently by Grandma herself. The imaginary scene became the epitome of Grandma's lifelong suffering, deeply imprinted in her mind.
A few years before Grandma's death, her body became thinner and thinner, and when I talked to her about her previous life, Grandma's inner hatred and the fighting spirit in her body were like slowly shrinking the weakened body, and the hopelessness gradually extinguished. The man she hated the most, how to live, how to live. Retired cadres, with the pension of the state, and the children born to the little grandmother, are already full of children and grandchildren. She was not condemned by society as Grandma expected, nor was she punished as she thought she deserved. Grandma sighed habitually, her eyes became sluggish, and said, What is the use of mentioning before, it is useless!
Now that Grandma is gone, at the age of seventy-three, may her soul rest in heaven and enjoy that rare peace.
With the reform and opening up of the country, the living conditions at home have improved, and there have been great changes in the hometown. Dad became a unit leader in the city, and with a career, in his hometown is to add a bright face to the family. After so many years away from home, Dad had almost no contact with Grandpa. Grandpa is a very strong person, Dad moved his family to the big city for more than ten years, and he did not come to visit. Grandpa is also a personal figure in the village, pay attention to face, the son has a job, do not recognize his father, must be laughed at.
A few years ago, when the county organized retired old cadres to visit the city, taking the opportunity of travel, Grandpa gave Dad a letter to come to the house to see. The letter said that if dad didn't recognize him as a dad, he would go to dad's unit to sue and let everyone know that dad was not filial piety. Dad must have experienced a mental struggle and calmly took Grandpa to the house.
Grandpa came to live at home for a day or two, and always praised the children he had with his grandmother now, how good life was, and how well he grew. Dad was always attentive and could feel the strangeness between them. The changes in the family in the early years, the misery of life, are like wounds that are difficult to heal and cannot be touched. Grandpa gave the impression that his face was always very serious, but sometimes he would give a very gentle smile. Looking at Grandpa's amiable expression, I don't believe that he ever wanted to shoot Grandma to death.
A few years before Grandpa died, the whole family went home for the New Year. When a large family eats a reunion dinner, Dad will take out a brown paper bag in front of everyone, take out a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills from it, and say words of blessing in Grandpa Sedu's arms. Countrymen rarely see so much money, and they all lament their father's rare filial piety. Grandpa looked at the money in his arms, and a brief smile that seemed to be a little embarrassed appeared on his face, and the taste in his heart may only be clear to him.
Grandpa was 93 years old when he died, and everyone in the village said it was a happy funeral. According to village custom, fathers and uncles and relatives and friends held extremely solemn funerals in the village. Please have two drama classes, one for a modern song and dance performance, and one for traditional blowing and singing. Shou filial piety for three days and three nights, sang for three days and three nights, singing and dancing drums and music shook the heavens. Now they are all cremated, but Dad and Uncles still bought coffins made of fine wood, weighing one or two tons, and put the ashes in for Grandpa to hold a grand burial ceremony. All this is to tell the neighbors that our family, no longer the one, is not clothed, the poor can not even eat, fragmented, looked down upon, this big family deserves to be respected. All that Dads and Uncles did, perhaps in some way, a kind of inner compensation for the suffering, poverty, and unbearable past.
Dad wrote articles about life in his hometown, always with a serious face, reading it to us word by word, in the past years Grandpa made him, and in the same way, he also made us!
Yin Yin'er She would never have imagined that her name would be the subject of my essay. Maybe she never remembered a person like me, but I decided to write about her, because the name of this woman who had little contact with me has always been remembered in my heart.
It's not some first love, maybe it's just an inexplicable, hazy thing. I've always had her in my childhood memories, always thought she was beautiful, and had an unspeakable attraction to me. It was a little boy, at the beginning of his life, about his hometown, about the beauty, about the warm memories of love.
When I planned to go back to my hometown many years ago, I thought to myself that I must go to her, even though she may not know me anymore.
I was surprised that this was the first girl in my memory, her face was so clear in my mind, I recognized it at a glance.
The hometown of childhood is full of warm colors full of dreams, thinking of childhood, the slow river, the lazy weeping willow, and the hot sand under the sun, along with her face, it fills the screen of my soul.
She may be the same as me in the same first grade, should be about the same age, the deepest impression is the summer of childhood, under the big willow tree in the heart of the village street, the green willow is low, the wind is easy to sound. The friends gathered together to listen to an old man in the village telling a story, and several children squatted around the old man to form a circle, and Yan Yin'er squatted opposite me. I distinctly remember her wearing a black dress, her hands on her chin, her face on her back to the old man who was telling the story, listening fascinatedly. Her shorts were exposed from the skirt, and there was a small hole in the shorts, maybe it was precocious, although she did not understand the affairs of men and women, although I could not see anything, but I secretly looked at it several times, and my heart was like a bunny. The chemistry between the opposite sex may be that at a certain moment, that person suddenly becomes different in your heart, will be attracted to some trait in the other person, the young age does not understand anything, but an inexplicable love arises in the heart. This memory is not easy to open, but I do remember it very deeply.
The small river pond in our hometown is a "holy place" that carries the joy of our childhood. Surrounded by greenery in summer, it is lush and lush. The sun shines on the water, the waves are shining, and the sound of frogs rises and falls. Many times when you are tired of playing, you will take off your clothes and jump into the water, relax your whole body, lie on your back on the surface of the water, let the sun warmly stab your body, and slowly float. I looked at the blue sky with my eyes slightly open, listened to the frogs on the bank of the river, and felt my whole body melt into the sun.
The boys all swam bare-buttocked and jumped into the river together, they couldn't swim at that time, they could only dog planers. In the water, either teasing or using thick willow strips, tied to the sharp iron skewers sharpened at the front end. Immerse the whole body and half of the head in the water, exposing both eyes. Float the sticker to the surface of the water, slowly approach the frogs swimming in the water or lying on the duckweed, and play with frogs.
Girls will also get together and play in the water. Once we were a few boys, on the shore to see a few girls from the village swimming in the water. Taking advantage of the fact that the girls and children were not paying attention, they took off their small flower clothes on the shore and secretly threw them into the bushes, just to see what their butts looked like when they went ashore. I am the kind of heel who is timid and follows the older children, and when we are done, we pretend to be indifferent, and sit triumphantly on the riverbank, waiting for the girls to come ashore. But we miscalculated, and the girls came up from the river wet, everyone wearing little shorts. They angrily found their clothes in the bushes. We stood in panic in the distance and looked at them foolishly. Among the girls, I remember that one of them was Yin'er.
That time my brother and I went back to our hometown, after a tangshan earthquake, the small river had dried up, and houses were built on the river. I asked several people, and no one knew who Yan Yin'er was. By chance, in the frame of a relative's and friend's house, I saw a picture of her, it turned out that she lived in the back village, and Yan Yin'er was her nickname, and few people called her when she grew up.
Led by relatives and friends, I came to her house, her mother received us, when Yan Yin'er walked into the house, I recognized it at a glance, she was still the same as before, round baby face, big eyes and black eyes, but fuller and more mature. As soon as she opened her mouth, her voice felt very strange, it sounded very thick, a bit like a boy's pronunciation. She was shy, and I could tell she was glad of my arrival, but she said she didn't remember me anymore, and I was disappointed. Her mother told her to buy cigarettes to entertain us, and as soon as she slipped a cigarette, she came back, standing at the cupboard, her head bowed shyly, not saying a word, just laughing silently.
This meeting ended like this, I heard others say that she already had a boyfriend at that time, a soldier, although even if she did not have a boyfriend we would not do anything, but there was still a trace of unspeakable sorrow in my heart.
I don't know which book has said that the most beautiful thing exists in obscurity, yes, that deep in the memory, that is, vague and clear emotions, why should we reveal it? Wouldn't it be better to let it be buried there forever, with a faint fragrance?!
I have forgotten who said that loving is beautiful, that it has nothing to do with the beloved party, and that the beloved cannot appreciate the unspeakable depth. I think that even if it is not love, or that ignorant and beautiful feeling, it is difficult to cherish, and in that indelible memory, it carries the reverie of my childhood happiness and beauty. Thank you to the little girl with long black hair and big black and shiny eyes, she made me have a romantic memory of my childhood and let me experience the beauty of life with love!
In the clear and vague portrait of the hometown, there are rivers, green willow forests, sunshine, japanese winds, and people full of kind, happy smiles. It is the comfort of my soul, my eternal dream!
Little teacherI don't know his name, and his image has long since faded into his childhood. As for the rural teacher, the only fragment of memory became the warmest part of my life.
In the Chinese tradition, the teacher is a very sacred name. "One day as a teacher, one life as a father." Those who spread knowledge and teach us the principles of life will win the general respect of society. The teacher is to some extent like our parents and family elders, he not only teaches us knowledge, but also should be a model for our behavior, a mentor in life, a spiritual reliance in life, in the journey of life, everyone needs a mentor in life.
In my childhood, in my hometown, I met my first teacher. He was not my teacher in the strict sense of the word, he did not directly teach me textbook knowledge, but let me a clueless child, in childhood to experience the warmth of life, collective love. That feeling, that memory, will always remain in the depths of my heart. It was the aftertaste of my life, and it also made me find that feeling of life all my life.
He was my brother's teacher, and my brother was supposed to be in the first or second grade, and this male teacher, who was supposed to be about eighteen or nineteen years old, was very young. I don't feel like a teacher, I feel more like an older big brother.
My brother was famous when he was a child, and most of the people in the village knew him. Looks also more gag, tanned by the sun and not slippery autumn, legs and feet can not stay idle, all day long home, according to the old family's saying, "row (pai) world rolls", feel like a mud monkey every day on the body.
After my brother went to school, he was also a notorious naughty student in the grade. I remember once playing by the pond in the village, as if it was "the queen of the day" (the old language means afternoon), when I was not yet of school age. I saw a young male teacher, pushing a 28-year bicycle, very angry, and wanted to turn in the direction of my house. I saw my brother, crawling in front of the teacher's bicycle, desperately trying not to let the bicycle pass.
The brother lay on the dirt road in front of the bicycle, pulling his throat and shouting, "High" (that is) not allowed to go. The male teacher twisted the handlebars vigorously, turned in a direction, turned past my brother, and pushed forward. The brother got up and chased to the front of the car, grabbed the handlebars with both hands, and saw that he could not stop another bone and lay on the ground, dancing and stopping the teacher's car. The brother must have been out of the circle at school, and the angry teacher had to go to the house to find the parents after school. It seems that the brother is also really frightened, desperately trying to stop the teacher, surrounded by a lot of people watching the liveliness... After that, my memory was blurred, and this was the first time I met what I called the little teacher. At that time, I was young and somewhat afraid of going to school, and when I saw that scene, I didn't know what kind of place the school was for children to be afraid.
I'm also old enough to go to school, it seems like I'm seven. When I got up in the morning, my mother carried the military satchel that my father had brought back from the army in advance, and crossed it on my shoulder, and the bag contained brand new textbooks and exercise books. This special gift of military satchel is something that few rural children can have, and I like it in my heart. In the courtyard, my mother told me and watched me go to school. At that time, there were no parents in the countryside to send their children to school, the school was in the village, and they all went to the school to study. Although I liked military satchels and new textbooks, I was still afraid and flustered. When he had to leave the house alone to go to school, he suddenly became very helpless, standing in the courtyard and refusing to move. Stunned for half a day, my mother looked at my pitiful appearance, and her heart ached, saying that if she didn't go, she wouldn't go and wait another year. Most of the people in the countryside went to school at that time when they were about eight years old, so I was afraid to go to school, so I didn't insist on it.
I was a year older, and when it was the beginning of school season, I went to school. The new environment, the collective life of the children together, made me feel new. Childhood is an age full of naïve fantasies, I remember when my father came home from the army to visit his relatives, bought a villain book for the three of us brothers and sisters, and painted illustrated stories such as "Chickens In the Middle of the Night" and "Red Light". I put these little people's books in my military satchel and took them to school, ready to show them to my classmates. After the teacher saw it, he praised me in front of the classmates and sent it to the classmates, at that time the countryside was still very poor, very backward, there was no cultural entertainment, there was a talk box (radio) at home, even if it was a big piece. Not many people have read the villain book, and the students have made a lot of money to pass it on. I am particularly happy to be praised by my teachers and loved by my classmates.
When I got home in the evening, I got together with the children from the village to play. We took flashlights and opened the little man's book through the night. A single page of paper is attached to the flashlight, close to the white wall in the courtyard, and the flashlight is used to cast the picture of the villain book on the wall. Shadow saw the characters in the book, reflected on the wall, like a slide, felt that the characters in the book came alive, and the friends were very happy. This scene filled us with dreamy joy.
The northern homeland plains, the place where I was born, are mellow and full of life. It is loving and accepting. Like the monsoon that has no tall buildings to block it, it washes and washes my soul, full of inclusive kindness. She was like a mother's arm, caring for me with love and surrounding me. This feeling, after leaving home for the city, has never appeared again.
One day in the autumn, my brother's class organized classmates to participate in field labor and pluck peanuts for the team. My brother took me with me, I had never seen so many children get together, that time I saw the little teacher again, close contact, I felt that the little teacher looked amiable, not strict at all, and everyone talked and laughed, not like a teacher, but like a lovely brother.
I remember that when I was a child, I produced the most sweet potatoes, corn, and peanuts. I love all three things. Put the ripe corn cob, with green skin, into the lit stove pit. In the middle of the burning branches of the corn stalk in the stove pit, the corn is burned while cooking. In a moment, in the burned out carbon ash, the burnt belt was hot, the corn was ripe, and there was a little scorched paste on the skin. For the sake of fire roasting, a little sugar will stay on the corn kernels, the outside is charred and tender, and the corn cob is chewy and crispy.
The same is true of sweet potatoes and white potatoes. I love sweet potatoes, which are more moist. In the stove pit, it was hot and the skin was mushy and hard. Breaking open the steaming air, the sticky sugar will flow down the sweet potato, take a bite, feel the throat hot, slippery, full of sweet mouth.
Pulling peanuts in the field, saying that it is labor, is actually more like a relaxing entertainment activity, not tired at all. The flowers grow in the soil, very shallow soil is also very soft, the leaves are exposed on the soil, the hands hold the peanut stalks, pull out a little bit of strength twice, shake and shake, and the peanuts come out of the soil. Fresh peanuts with moist dirt have a special sweet taste, and new peanuts taste different from peanuts that have been left for a while. New peanut fruit watery, crunchy. As I pulled it out, I shook the peanut vigorously and shook the soil as much as possible. I rubbed the shelled peanut in my hand, peeled the skin and put the fruit in my mouth to taste, which was particularly fragrant. Although peanuts are on the production team, but the hometown is everywhere, no one cares to taste it, let alone us children.
For the first time in my life, I was with my older students' brothers and sisters, and I was very happy. The little teacher told everyone knowledge and stories while organizing the students to work. Bursts of laughter, warmth, joy. The little teacher also chatted with me a few times, and I can't remember what I talked about, but I felt that the teacher was very kind and had no sense of distance. The little teacher was able to stay in my childhood memories because of the love he had for his students. That love should not only be completing a job, but a concern from the bottom of the heart. When communicating with him, I can make my young soul realize that he pays attention to you and values your feelings, and he unconditionally passes on this care to everyone around him.
On the way back to the village, through a forest, look up, the sun shines through the forest, shining on the happy smiling faces of the primary teachers and classmates. The breeze swept through the treetops through the trees, making a crisp sound among the green leaves. My whole body and mind were suddenly triggered, and I felt an indescribable warmth, like falling into an ocean of happiness, and the whole person melted into the warm orange-red sunlight of the forest. This feeling is deeply imprinted in my soul, has always followed me, never forgotten, so that it has become the standard of happiness in my life, insisting on finding it. I don't know what it represents, but it must be about life. That scene was like an ideal country, and I had always longed deep down that there would be no benefits between people, no mutual use, no high and low, no poverty and wealth, and everyone would be equal. Together, only help each other, support each other with love, simple, pure. This short and deep inner feeling has caused oneself to develop a purity of the heart. For the injustices in life, some gray things, psychological rejection and non-acceptance. There are no fish in the water, and it must be somewhat inappropriate to live in the world, but I stubbornly wait.
How many times have you woken up in a dream and jumped in the direction of your hometown; how many times have your life been unsatisfactory, and the red sunshine in the forest of your hometown has risen in your heart. As I grew older, I gradually realized that from the day I left my hometown with my parents and moved to the city, the place where I was born, the familiar village, the hometown that I often remembered and remembered, I could never go back. That childhood that carries warmth and joy can never go back!
My hometown is like a mother's loving arm, unconditionally accepting me and supporting my life. The wind on the original land of the hometown blows through the wilderness, washes away everything, and slowly smooths everything. These ordinary people and ordinary things slowly melted into the dust of the years. May these words, standing in the tunnel of time, like the wind of their hometown, say to the big, they have come, loved, looked forward to, and fought. In the face of the fertile land of the northern plains that exudes the fragrance of life, I have never given up the hope in my heart!
(Image from the Internet)
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