Where is the man who loves me in the world?
Text: Zhou Zheng
I saw my mother in a dream last night, and my mother was still wearing a grass green army coat, a blue hat, and glasses with many circles. She spoke on the podium, impassioned, and after she had finished speaking she stepped off the stage and left, I called her she did not look back, I cried and woke up the pillows were all wet.
The time is really fast, I don't think my mother has been gone for twenty years, which means that Mother's Day has also passed twenty. But in these twenty years, I still feel like my mother is in my life. Whenever I write late into the night, a bowl of hot poached eggs, or a bowl of sesame paste, and a bowl of white fungus soup are placed in front of me. Looking at my mother's flowing white hair, my tears were always swirling in my eyes, and it was good to have a mother. We are all adults, and our mothers are old. I still have my mother to worry about in my fifties. The mother said: In the eyes of a mother, you are a seventy-year-old child. The relationship between the child and the mother, the mother and the child, is a great love, and the love that the mother gives to the child is always selfless. But what do we, as children, give to our mothers?
The lyrics say:
Only mothers are good in the world
A child with a mother is like a treasure.
In the mother's mind, the child is always a treasure. But what did we give our mother? What was given to her was a lifetime of hard work, a lifetime of worry.
Every time I traveled, my mother was packing for me; my nightly host mother would sit under the lamp, waiting for the door to open for me, and if I was drunk, she would bring the honey and vinegar and force me to drink it, and put a soaked towel on my forehead.
When I finished each article, my mother had to be the first reader, and then she had a weak look in her eyes and asked me to read it to her, and she would pick some faults for me after reading it. Not to mention that all works that have been changed according to their mother's opinion have won awards.
I was laid off at the age of forty and unemployed, and I was once very distressed and depressed. My mother always encouraged me to say that my son was the best. Use your pen to plant wheat and harvest wheat. So I became a full-time writer, earning money by writing articles with this pen in my hand to support my family.
I became today, no longer bent over the money, mother she also left me, where did she go? I think I went to heaven, because heaven welcomes good people.
Mothers are nice people!
This is recognized by all the people of Old White Rock Village. At that time, my mother was the director of the baishi village, really the backbone of the people, who had no food to eat, they came to find their mother: Director Fang, the family has no grain. Mother: Dig with my family. A big scoop of grain was dug up, you scooped him a scoop, and there was no grain hoard in the family, they all supplied those grains, dug up, and the grain was cut off, and the mother swept the mask bag, and the bag had been swept several times. There are no cotton jackets on the children, and the mother takes the cotton jackets off our bodies and puts them on for others...
This is the mother: the people are hungry and frozen, and it is my director who has not done a good job.
I think that the happiness of our brothers and sisters today, the happiness of my mother's granddaughters and grandchildren today, are all the happiness of my mother's good deeds.
One point number Zhou Zheng literature column