Childhood, simple and pure. What was your childhood like? Is it as Mr. Ji Xianlin envied, "children do not go out, they know the world"?
Tonight, let's cross time and space into Ji Xianlin's childhood...
My childhood
(Excerpt) Author: Ji Xianlin
After I was born, my family's situation was still extremely difficult. The number of times to eat white noodles in a year is limited, usually only red sorghum noodle cakes can be eaten; there is no money to buy salt, sweep up the soil on the saline and alkali ground, boil water in the pot, pickle pickles, what sesame oil, can not see at all, a year at the end, eat this kind of pickles. My wife, I call her Grandma, and she likes me. When I was three years old, every day when I opened my eyes, I raised my legs and ran to the village (our family was outside the village), ran to my grandmother, only to see her roll her hand, roll it into the fat sleeve, and when the hand came out again, half of the white-faced bun would be held in her hand and handed to me. I ate it as if it were gentian and phoenix, and I didn't know that there was anything better in the world than white-noodle steamed buns. This white-faced bun was a special honor for her two sons (each with dozens of acres of land). She likes me as a grandson, and always saves half a day for me to eat. For several years, it was my highest enjoyment, my greatest pleasure every day.
I don't remember when I started learning to read, but it was probably between the ages of four and six. My teacher was Mr. Ma Jinggong. Now I can't remember any places like private schools, or books like "Hundred Family Names" and "Thousand Character Text" in any way. My house with four walls did not have a single book, not even a note with words on it. Anyway, I always recognize a few words, otherwise where is the teacher? The existence of Mr. Ma Jinggong cannot be doubted.
Although there is no private school, there are small partners. I remember two most clearly: one was called Yang Dog, who I had only learned his name when I came home a few years ago, and he was still alive and illiterate; the other was called Dumb Little (meaning dumb son), and I still haven't figured out who his last name is. The three of us played together every day, floating water, playing dates, catching knowledge, touching shrimp, not seeing or dispersing, and the day was uninterrupted. Later, I heard that the dumb little boy became the king of the mountain, and he practiced an amazing skill of jumping over the ridge, and he could grasp the rafters of the big temple with his fingers, hang in the air, and walk around the main hall for a week. Once I was caught, it was the tenth winter moon, naked, poured with cold water, tied up, hung upside down for a night, and still alive. It is said that he never came to Guanzhuang to commit crimes, "rabbits do not eat nest grass", which is the righteousness of the heroes of the green forest. He was eventually captured and killed. Every time I think of such a bare-ass playing little friend who has become such a "hero", I am quite proud.
I've only been in my hometown for six years, and there's so much I can remember, but I don't want to write about it anymore. It was time to say goodbye to my gray-yellow hometown.
When it comes to studying, I remember that in three years, I had taken two first-class third-class (only three first-class) and two first-class second-class, which, in general, belonged to the upper class; but it was not top-notch. In fact, I didn't work hard at the time, playing more and studying less.
Although I am not interested in the main class, there is something that I am very interested in, that is, reading novels. My uncle was an old-fashioned man who called novels "idle books", and idle books were not allowed to read. At home, under my desk there was a large vat of white noodles covered with a "lid pad" (in Jinan dialect) woven from sorghum poles. I sat at the table, and on the table were "Four Books", but I was reading old novels such as "Peng Gong Case", "Ji Gong Biography", "Journey to the West", "Romance of the Three Kingdoms" and so on. "Dream of the Red Chamber" is probably too deep, I can't understand the mystery of it, Dai Yu cries and cries all day, which I don't like, so I can't watch it. The rest of the books are read with relish. Cold uncle walked in, I hurriedly lifted the cover pad. Throw the idle book inside, and read "Zi Yue" and "Shi Yun" in your mouth.
When I got to school, I didn't need to guard against anything, as soon as school was over, it was my world. I often hide behind rockeries, or on a construction site where houses are built, take out idle books, and gobble up big looks. Often I forget the time, forget to eat, and sometimes when it gets dark, I go home. I am very familiar with the good men of the green forest in the novel, their names are memorized very well, and even the weapons they use are more precious than textbooks. Of course, I also want to be such a hero. Once, a child told me to poke the five fingers of my right hand into the rice jar, again and again, again and again, all the way to hundreds, thousands of times. After practicing for a period of time, then change the sand grains, poke with your hands, and finally you can train into an iron sand palm, five fingers and a poke, which can poke the trees. I quite wanted to have an iron sand palm, believed it to be true, practiced violently, and as a result, I punctured my finger, and the blood flowed, knowing that I had no connection with the iron sand palm, so I stopped practicing.
Learning English also started from this elementary school. At that time, for me, foreign language was a very magical thing, I think, square words are natural, do not use square words, only bend like earthworms crawling through the traces, can actually make sounds, but also interesting, it is simply incredible. The more mysterious something is, the more attractive it is. English is very attractive to me. I never imagined that something as unattainable as a mirage would be at my fingertips.
Every time I recall learning English, there is always a mess of flowers in front of my eyes, which are purple peony flowers. It turned out that there were several flower beds in the courtyard in front of the principal's office, and when spring came, the peonies were in full bloom, and they were all purple flowers. Walking there during the day, the purple flowers and green leaves are extremely distinct. In the evening, after the English class, walking through the courtyard, the purple and green flowers turned into a color, hazy and a bunch, because they had the impression of daytime, so they still knew their colors. But at night, you can only see the shadows of flowers in front of your eyes, and your nose seems to be a little floral. This scene has accompanied me all my life, as long as I think of learning English, this wonderful scene will come to my eyes, bringing me immeasurable happiness and happiness.
Looking at my childhood, starting from a gray and yellow, to Zhengyi Middle School, I have reached a thick green realm - I have improved. But this is only on the surface, from the content of life, it is still a gray yellow. Even when I arrived in Jinan, it was difficult for me to find anything that sounded and colored in my life. I've never had any toys, and I'm very happy to make a circle of thin iron bars, and then get a hook and push it, and I can run. Poverty, monotony, rigidity, and stubbornness are a reflection of my life at that time. Accept outside information, relying only on the facial features. What a television, a tape recorder, not even a movie. I hadn't even seen a movie when I was a kid, and I could imagine the rest.
Blessed are today's children. How many refurbished toys do they have! How many children's playgrounds and children's activity centers do they have? They were hungry for bread, thirsty for this cola, that cola, milk, ice cream. Tired of watching movies, watching TV. Tired of listening to the radio, listening to the tape recorder. Information from the sky, overseas, across the mountains and rivers, flocked to them, they are really "children do not go out, they know the world.".
Today I depict my childhood as realistically as possible, no matter how incomplete it is, no matter how much I hang on to it, no matter how clumsy my pen and ink, that is, the ones written above, our children today read it, can't we also get a little inspiration from it, and learn something useful from it?
June 6, 1986
Reader: North Star
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