Wen | Zhao Jinhou Editor| Swallow Picture | Network
The night was quiet, looking out the window at the lights, and suddenly I had the idea of writing about my father.
Father's life is really not easy, years of hard work made my father's hair turn white in his fifties, and his father, who was not tall, was even more humble because of his hunchback. The 76-year-old father had to stop cooking for the coal plant because of a heart attack, perhaps because he himself thought he could not earn money, and added a burden to his children, and the introverted father was even more reticent.
His father graduated from Yuncheng No. 6 Middle School, and in those three years he walked 25 miles from home to Wu'an to go to school. The hardships of life in the sixties can be imagined, and the family's dilemma inspired my father's ambition to change his fate with reading. But fate tricked people, and his father suddenly fainted in the examination room, which made his dream of studying come to naught. Immediately after the death of my grandmother, my father had to take up the burden of the family, and he pinned his good wishes on our sisters and brothers.
I haven't seen my father since I can remember, and the farm work in the fields was done by my grandfather and mother. I asked where was my father? My mother stroked my head, looked at the road that stretched far away, smiled, and said, "Your father earns money in the northeast." So I dreamed every day that my father would come back and bring me chocolates and new clothes.
When my father finally returned from the northeast, it was a quiet dusk, and a three-wheeled pedal stopped in front of my house, and my father, who was not tall, and my mother helped him carry down his heavy luggage. My father's smile was very cheerful, and my mother called me loud, but I didn't make a sound because of shyness.
His father took the money from the Eastern Expedition to build the hall house, and the mother said that she would no longer have to worry about the old house leaking rain in the summer. The combination of brick and earth in the newly built hall house, especially the bright glass doors and windows, makes us feel happy and blossom. My father worked in the production team to earn work, ploughed the land, fed the livestock, sowed in the spring and autumn, came and went in the wind and rain, and dedicated himself to the family. After planting the wheat, my father still had to go to the river to work, braving the cold north wind to dig soil and pull carts. Thousands of people like fathers dug through rivers and let the majestic causeway stretch into the most beautiful scenery of the plain.
His father's failure to eat public meals in this life became a lingering regret in his heart. At dinner, my father would ask us about our recent learning one by one, mathematical problems that I couldn't understand, and my father would not tire of explaining to us; in the language class, he first asked us to write neatly, and my father showed us hand in hand, whether it was a pen word, a brush word, my father could write smoothly, fresh and timeless. To this day, I have been influenced by my father, and I am as down-to-earth and serious as writing. I remember when I was in the fourth grade, I was very bad at several test results, the teacher criticized me, and my father sternly warned me that if I did not fight anymore, I would not be allowed to eat if I did not make progress in the next exam. I gambled and walked more than twenty miles to my aunt's house for a few days. Afterwards, my aunt rushed to my house to say the original reason, and the family's hanging heart was solid. My aunt calmly and persuaded me, my father did not let me eat, it was angry, he hated iron and steel, you did not study well, you will regret it in the future. I remember when I got home, my father slapped me in the face with anger, and I covered my hot face, and tears of guilt came out of my eyes. Since then, I have gradually understood my father's good intentions, when I lie in bed at night and can't sleep, I seriously reflect on my mistakes, thinking of the sins suffered by my father in life, can I afford his ardent expectations of me? Since then, I have set up a lofty ideal of angry reading, surprising my father every semester.
The years pass, and the past clings to it. Our brothers and sisters keep in mind their father's entrustment in their studies, from primary school to junior high school, high school to work, every achievement is condensed with the father's love and encouragement; every honor is permeated with his father's hopes and expectations.
It is often said that the love of the mother is like water, and the love of the father is like a mountain. Father's love is implicit and deep. There is a song that sings: "Father is my ladder to heaven, father is my cow pulling the cart, can't forget the coarse tea and light rice, raise me, can't forget a long sigh, half a pot of old wine..." In the crystal tears, I seem to see my father's industrious figure and solid steps. My father always gave me the motivation to move forward, and sincerely wished my father happiness and health in his old age!
About author:Zhao Jinhou, working at Nanzhaolou Town Center School in Yuncheng County, Shandong Province. He loves literature, loves the colorfulness and romance of life, and is willing to use words to thank the beauty of the world. He is the author of the novella "Choice". Some poems have appeared in many newspapers and periodicals and many online platforms such as "Learning to Strengthen the Country".
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