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In the memory, Grandma's little feet trembled and swayed, and she walked step by step. Her burlap placket, old blue gown, was coiled with delicate buttons, along with the embroidered lace cuffs she sewed stitch by stitch.
In the rye field under the setting sun, Grandma's white hair was like a golden chrysanthemum in the wind, and I followed her ass to collect the ears of wheat and put them in a small satchel. Grandma said, well, picked up the wheat for apricots. Not far away, there was a sweet wind wafting from the apricot row, and I wiped a handful of sweat, and my little face became a thrush. Grandma took out two yellow-orange apricots from her cloth pocket and handed them to me, and the sweet and sour apricots were delicious, which was the happiest time in childhood. Grandma said that the apricot garden in front of the house and the apricot row behind the house were planted by me and your grandfather by hand, and now they are all back in the team. So, I kept asking about my grandmother's past.
Grandma said, Once upon a time, your grandfather made a very good brother of the beggar, when the soldiers were in chaos, he was afraid that the family's belongings were not safe, so he buried the grain cloth, gold and silver jewelry into the ren brothers' home, but one day, people ran to say, let the little Japanese ghost snatch it, where to go to find it? Since then, Grandpa has been ill. In the season when the apricots were fragrant, Grandma put the ripe apricot meat into the mouth of the dying man, but she could not save Grandpa's life.
Respecting Grandpa's last wishes, Grandma buried him in her own apricot row. Grandpa may have wanted to guard his orchard and give the lonely soul a resting place, but he did not expect that the puppet army at the Japanese pseudo-stronghold in the west of the village had swept away all the apricots. Grandpa's bones were not cold, and Grandma took two young children, daring to be angry and dare not speak. Grandma encouraged her eight-year-old son to join the children's regiment, stand guard, send intelligence to the underground Communist Party, and deliver food to the anti-Japanese wounded and sick who hid in the apricot row.
When my father was seventeen years old, New China had been founded, and Grandma personally sent her son to join the army. His father lived up to his grandmother's expectations, joined the party at the age of twenty, was promoted to company commander instructor at the age of twenty-seven, and served in the army for fourteen years. Later, his father returned home from another job, and the army gave him more than 300 yuan for settling down, and his grandmother lent it to the poor villagers in the village.
Later, her mother contracted the apricot line, and she took care of the hopes of the whole family like a grandmother. The apricot ripening season is the busy day of the wheat harvest, my mother and I rushed to the store, and the people who exchanged the wheat for apricots took advantage of the situation, and Grandma always let the family eat enough in the apricot shop. At that time, everyone ate white steamed buns, and murakami also added a lot of new tile houses, the business of the brick kiln factory in the north of the village was booming, and the cooking smoke of the beep went straight into the clouds, and the apricot line was warm and hot, and the red brick tiles had the sweet taste of mai mang apricots. Grandma took shelter under the almond tree, a kind face. After Grandma's death, he respected Grandma's last wishes and let her be buried with Grandpa in the apricot row.
Today, we have all made our home in the city, and the apricot row left by grandma has long since disappeared. Every year in the "Apricot Blossom Festival", we like to go to the countryside to see the apricot blossoms, when the vendors gather and the traffic is busy. When the mai mang apricots are ripe, the apricot line has become a picking garden, and people go to the apricot garden to pick themselves like a big market, and the baskets of apricots are stained with the dew of the qingling spirit. We strolled through the apricot walk, full of emotions, how good would Grandma have been if she had lived until now?
Peace and prosperity, food and clothing, under the world's great plague, it is still the only good side of the scenery. I always felt that my grandmother was watching us in heaven, smiling comfortably, and the century-old incense breeze was blowing in my face, blowing me to tears.
About the author: Lü Ping, formerly known as Lü Haiping, pen name Lü Ping, a native of Yuncheng, Shandong. His works have appeared in Shandong Legal Daily, Shandong Literature, Times Literature, Contemporary Novels, Northern Lights Literature, Peony Literature, Radio and Television News, Peony Evening News and other newspapers and periodicals, and won the first Peony Literature Award, water margin literature nomination award, Taishan Literature And Art Award second prize and other awards. He is the author of three special collections of poetry and essays, "The Fragrance of the Earth", the novel collection "Two-Faced Beauty", and the myth and legend "Phoenix Spreads Its Wings". Heze City's first "local talents" were awarded the title of "Outstanding Folk Writers" by the Organization Department of the Municipal Party Committee, the Municipal Federation of Literature and Art, the Municipal Human Resources and Social Security Bureau, and the Municipal Bureau of Culture, Radio, Television, News and Publications. He is currently a member of the Shandong Poetry Society, a director of the Heze Writers Association, the deputy secretary-general of the Yuncheng Writers Association, and a deputy to the 17th and 18th People's Congresses of Yuncheng County.
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