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Ma Huanzhi's column | his mother's tears

Ma Huanzhi's column | his mother's tears

Text/Ma Huanzhi Editor| Swallow Photo | Network

From the moment my brain was able to retain memories, there was hardly a record of my mother's tears.

The mother is a thin woman, and the mother is a strong and optimistic woman. It is this strong and optimistic thin woman, but she has endured unbearable suffering from ordinary people. In those difficult years, the mother did not have a single tear, always smiling in the face of life, smiling in the face of all the suffering that life has given, as if the tears of weakness did not belong to the mother, never belonged to the strong mother.

That winter of that year, my father never woke up from a serious illness and left us forever. I was twelve years old and in the fourth grade of elementary school.

After my father left, the property left for us, in addition to three broken grass houses and two thousand yuan of foreign debt, was those bottles and cans that were filled with a strange smell of medicine.

The top pillar of a family fell like this, and the mother supported the family that was about to collapse with her thin body, and all the burdens of life were pressed on the thin shoulders. The mother became more and more emaciated, but the mother never had any complaints, and in the face of life's suffering, the mother's face was full of indifference. In order to pay off the debt, in order to provide for my schooling, my mother's field, the family's management is well organized.

It was dusk, and when I came home from school, I saw a pile of wheat in front of my door that had just been cut back. Knowing that her mother had gone to collect the wheat, she put down her school bag and ran to her own field. In the distance, I saw my mother pulling a cart of wheat from the ground, and I was pulling it out of the ground with great effort, and the whole cart of wheat was pressed on my mother's body like a small mountain, and compared with the "mountain", my mother seemed so small.

With a sour feeling in my eyes, I hurried to the back of the car, pushing the mountain-heavy car with both hands. By the time the cart of wheat was pulled home and unloaded, it was completely dark.

After dinner, I had a sleepless night. When my mother's tired body snored sweetly, I held the rough and bloodshot hands tightly in my arms, rubbing them repeatedly with my young little hands, tears rolling in my eyes, and my heart dripping blood.

That night, the night sky was dark, there were no stars, no moon. I don't know if I was touched by my bitter but strong mother, hiding behind the clouds and secretly crying. I lay in bed thinking a lot, and overnight I felt as if I had matured and grown up, and I felt that it was time to worry about my mother.

The next day, I went to school particularly early, and the early sun had not yet opened its eyes. I knocked on the door of Teacher Wang's dormitory, and when I bowed my head and said to the smiling Teacher Wang, "I'm not going to school," my voice was so small, so small that only I could hear it, and so determined. Teacher Wang's smile was frozen in surprise on his face.

You must know that I was a student with excellent character and learning in school, the whole class of fifty-four students, every time I was in the top five in the exam, Teacher Wang has repeatedly shown off in front of teachers in other classes: this boy has a career, and will be the material for college in the future. Unexpectedly, I said incredible, incomprehensible words today. Teacher Wang Tieqing asked with a face: Why? My answer was only four words: for mother!

In Teacher Wang's helpless shaking of his head and sighing, I walked out of the school. The daily journey, that day felt so long and muddy. The heart felt as if it were trapped inside, and every step was so heavy. I walked forward with my head bowed, and did not look back at the familiar school door, I was afraid that my childish and studious heart could not resist the temptation of the sound of reading aloud, and flew back again.

I took heavy steps and returned home.

When I told my mother about the decision I had made without permission, my mother, who had always been kind, was angry and had no room for negotiation: "You must give me back to school, and no matter how tired I am, I will offer you for college!" I was even more stubborn and stubborn to say three "no" words in a row. My mother was even more angry, and my kind mother waved her rough hands and hit me hard in the face. I felt a burning sensation on my face, a nosebleed running down my mouth, and I stood there stubbornly, biting my lip without a word.

My mother looked at the red palm prints on my face, and suddenly took me in her arms and cried loudly.

It was the first time in my life that my mother had beaten me and shed tears. On the day of my father's death, my mother's eyes were just rolling with crystals, and I didn't see any tears falling, but today, my mother cried. Not for the injustice of fate, nor for the fact that life has given her too much suffering, but for the childish but sensible son, for the only tears shed for love.

Ma Huanzhi's column | his mother's tears

Author: Ma Huanzhi, Shandong musician. Lyricist works include "Let Everything Go". Other works include "My Heart To the Buddha", "Hide", and "The Distance of 2000 Kilometers".

One Point Heart Dream Literature