《Ancient Canal Riverside》

In the spring of the second year after Sister Wenling's death, I said to my father: I feel that my arms are weak.

"How is your arm weak?"

"It just feels bad"

"Legs are not strong"

"Strong legs"

"That's fine"

Grandma was afraid that I had the same disease as Nuan Ling, so she asked my father to take me to the hospital to see.

My father found a hospital doctor he knew through a friend, and my father took me to the doctor's house. I remember it was also a cramped and cramped room, living on a few floors I forgot. My father brought some home-grown mung beans, millet.

My father probably said something about my illness and some polite remarks.

The doctor asked me how I was uncomfortable

I said, "Two arms are boring."

"You me take my hand"

The doctor held his palm out and I squeezed his four fingers hard.

"Use a little more force"

I squeezed his hand harder.

"Come and change your other hand"

"Force"

"It's okay, it's a lot of strength, nothing"

I said, "I'm still bored."

"You have the strength, it hurts to hold my hand, go back, it's all right." The doctor looked up and smiled at my father.

When I got home I still felt weak and lazy, like the sunshine of spring.

Father said, "Go to work in the fields, and you will have the strength to work." ”

The fathers installed the pumps and connected the straps for watering, which took a long time.

The cold wind of the spring blew a few of my children into hiding in the carriage of the tricycle, wrapped in the baggage for the grass, and squeezed together.

I said, "Never get off the ground again."

"Then study well"