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Remember the strong smell of the year
Author: Wang Na
The new year is approaching, in the silent night sky, the flute of the train is like a mother calling a wanderer in the distance, bringing me back to the distant Spring Festival of my childhood...
The Spring Festival in the 1980s was such a yearning and extravagant day for us as children. I remember that at that time, on the twenty-third day of the 23rd lunar month, we began to worship the king of the stove, and every household wanted to burn cakes, which we called dry food lumps. Looking at the fragrant cake, although the hand was hot, it was still salivating, and I couldn't help but want to reach out, but I was beaten by my mother, saying that I was not allowed to eat, and I would first sacrifice to the king of the stove, hoping to bless our family with a good harvest of grain in the next year.
In that era of bad harvest, in order to have steamed bread in the next year, I had to obey my mother and give the stove king a very pious bow, hoping to bless our whole family from going hungry.
The year of childhood begins at the twenty-third child of the Waxing Moon. People started cleaning and making tofu. The dishes are all grown by themselves, but they are very simple, with cabbage, radish, spinach, garlic seedlings, green onions and so on. On the 278th of the Waxing Moon, it was finally the day of steamed bun steamed buns that we had been looking forward to for a long time, in fact, it was just some white noodles, plus a little white corn flour, and there was only radish tofu inside, plus a little spice. Mom also made some bean sandbags with red beans, which tasted sweet and sweet, just like our Mood for the New Year. At that time, people were very poor, and from time to time there were beggars begging for food, which we called asking for food. Although we didn't have enough food to eat, my mother told us that as long as someone wants to come to our house, we must give, they are all poor people, which also makes me learn to sympathize with others, help others, and learn to give up.
It was hard to survive until Chinese New Year's Eve, which is when our children are happiest. Mom was busy stewing meat and preparing a few dishes, Dad and brother were busy buying firecrackers, rushing back and pasting couplets, my sister and I were sticking window flowers, and the family was busy and orderly, and they were happy. After a while, the red couplet, as well as the various patterned window flowers that my mother and I cut, made people feel extra warm at home in the warm sun.
Back then, there were no cell phones, no televisions. After dinner, a few of our little children just went out for a crazy run. Whoever put the cannon at home, we would go to the house to pick up the squib that did not sound, and then give my brother a pistol made of wire, load it with cannon medicine to play, and when we grew up, we realized that it was very dangerous. Crazy enough, tired of running, everyone went home to keep the old age with their families, and at that time our children still couldn't stay up, listened to their parents, listened to them, and fell asleep.
On the morning of the first day of the Chinese New Year, the sky was still numb, and I was woken up by the sound of firecrackers. When I opened my eyes, I saw that my mother had prepared new clothes and shoes for the four of us for the winter, and although it was only a very cheap snowflake top and green velvet pants, the clothes made of coarse cloth that most people wore were also very enviable. In his pocket, there was still the fifty cents that dad had given him. When I put on my new clothes and went out, I heard the big aunt and aunt in the village praise me, you see how skillful her mother is, how beautiful the clothes she cut, and how beautiful the shoes she made are. Hearing their praise, don't mention how happy I was, I hurriedly greeted them, and then threw two braids with red head ropes, triumphantly going door to door to see whose couplet was novel and creative.
On the morning of the first day of the first year, I had just eaten meat dumplings, and the gongs and drums in the village were beaten. I hurriedly put down the dishes and chopsticks, and when I went out, I saw a village of men, women and children around the gongs and drums, and the big aunts and aunts in the village also twisted and sang in unison. After a while, the gong and drum team, lions, and dry boats from Zhangzhai Village on the opposite side also came to our village, and everyone greeted each other to pay homage to each other. After a while, the gongs, drums and dragon lights in Tuotuo Village also came one after another, and our children shouted together, the dragon came and the dragon came, and the four seasons became rich. At that time, people whether they had money or not, lions, and dragon lanterns had to dance in a circle at the door of each house, everyone wanted to be auspicious, of course, we also quickly took out melon candy, snacks and other snacks, and did our best to thank the lord, such a lively, until the fifteenth day of the first month.
Now the country is prosperous, people's lives are getting better and better, and the pace of the year is getting closer and closer, but there is no father and mother, there is no strong taste of childhood, let me feel infinite sorrow and confusion...
About the Author
Native Lantian platform author: Wang Na, screen name: homesick rain, Shaanxi Xi'an Lantian Languan town people, graduated from Yaoshan Middle School, from childhood love literature, often in the form of poetry and prose to borrow scenery lyricism, sigh life.
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