"Crossing the Spiritual Barrier" - Jiang Ming

A woman, who was not yet 40 years old, dressed in an old shirt that matched her age, was hunched over, standing day by day on the side of the road opposite the school gate, in front of a pancake stall, making pancakes for passers-by. Every time after school, I had to pass by this pancake stand, and the restrained figure always caught my eye. But I never dared to look at this figure squarely. I was afraid that the man would call me because she was my mom! I was afraid, afraid that my classmates would laugh at me, there was a mother who sold pancakes!

One day, just after school, it began to rain lightly. I was secretly glad that I had brought an umbrella in the morning, and I talked and laughed with my classmates and walked out of the school gate. As I passed the pancake stand, I walked briskly past, pretending not to know my mother. Mom is spreading pancakes for guests with her hands and feet. Suddenly a cup was accidentally touched by her and fell to the ground, and he hurriedly bent down to pick it up, and one toe almost knocked over the stall. Mom's hunched figure clutched my gaze tightly, and my heart couldn't help but crank. "Mom!" I cried out.

I live in an unfortunate single-parent family, my father died in a car accident two years ago, we mother and son are dependent on each other, my mother is not yet 48 years old, she was bent by life.

A month ago, I saw a bound copy of "Reader" in the bookstore next to the school gate and wanted to buy it, but it cost 20 yuan, which is too expensive! As soon as I got home, I talked to my mother and asked her to give me money to buy the book. When the mother heard 20 yuan, she couldn't help but sigh and said: "The child doesn't like me, but it's too expensive." ”

A week later, when I came home from school in the afternoon, my mother said to me happily, "Son, you see, what is this?" I looked up and saw my mother holding a brand new book, the bound Reader. Ecstatic, I snatched the book from my mother's hand and shouted excitedly, "Mom, you are so nice!" The mother said very calmly: "Child, as long as you can study well, I am willing to smash the pot and sell iron." ”

This pancake stand is Mom's lifeblood and our family's only source of livelihood. Every hot winter, every time the wind and rain show the figure of the mother will appear in front of the pancake stand. All along, she used her hard-earned money to provide me with schooling.

At the thought of this, tears blurred my vision and flowed into my heart, and my heart trembled. I ran to my mother and helped my mother pick up the cup, and my mother looked at me in surprise and muttered, "Good, good, good..."

The detaining figure, the humble pancake stand, the mother-child relationship that was thicker than water entered my diary that night, buried in the depths of my soul, because they let me finally cross the threshold of my own soul.

Half a bit of my mother's rickety figure, I am maturing day by day...