Prose | Annam Bamboo: Mother's Dumplings

Mother's dumplings

Text/Annan Bamboo

(Web Photo)

The closest distance in life is the way home, and the farthest distance is the way home. We are in a hurry, running on the way forward, always longing for the scenery outside the city, but why have we ever looked back in the direction of home?

After going to college, he rarely went home, and the short vacation twice a year became a daily expectation. Mothers don't use smartphones, and they don't understand WeChat as a way of communicating. She always kept her head together and watched with bewildered and curious eyes at our sisters and brothers fiddling with this novelty. Until one day, the mother finally learned to use the mobile phone with the help of her brother. She used WeChat to make a video call with me, and on the other end of the phone, she happily said to me, "I learned, I learned, and I can play videos with you every week." "I can feel the joy of my mother through the screen, happy like a child who has received candy.

During the first winter vacation of college, I couldn't wait to get out of the station with my suitcase and get on the bus home. At six o'clock in the morning, the whistle of the car, the shouting of the vendors, and the playfulness of the children carrying school bags seemed to greet me, the returning student. The roadside vendors have started a day's business, and the aroma of various foods is slowly wafting in, stimulating my sensitive taste buds. For a person who is away from home to study, this temptation is even worse. I stepped off the bus, pushed open the door with the rhythmic rumbling of the wheels, and pushed open the door with anticipation. The mother is wrapping dumplings, wearing a plain apron, using chopsticks to put the meat filling into the dumpling skin, and then carefully dipping the water in the bowl twice, skillfully turning the dumpling skin vigorously, and a delicate dumpling is completed. Seeing me enter the house, my mother happily lifted her head and pulled me into the house with her flour-stained hand, "It's cold outside, you sit down and roast the fire, and the dumplings will be ready immediately." I sat down behind closed doors, reached for warmth by the stove, and suddenly looked at my mother's busy back, "Mom, you've been using this apron for several years, there's a hole in it, get a new one." The mother said as she put the dumplings into the pot, "You can still use it, it doesn't get in the way of a hole, it takes a long time to get a good idea, right?" I didn't take my mother's words and got up to wipe the table. My mother put a bowl of cooked dumplings in front of me, the rising heat blurred my eyes, I sat on the chair and couldn't wait to put one delicious dumpling after another into my mouth, and suddenly found that my mother was watching me intently on the opposite side, "Mom, don't you eat?" Tastes good. "You love to eat, there are many leftovers last night, I ate it this morning, you eat slowly, there is still in the pot, it is all yours" I was stunned, remembering that in fact, my mother likes to eat dumplings the most, I looked at the old yellow apron, smiled and said to my mother, "Mom, in the future, we will eat vegetarian stuffed dumplings, meat, afraid of fat." ”

My mother suffered from severe cervical spondylosis and suffered severe pain every cold winter. One day, when I was beating my mother's back, I saw the white hair on her head, and I gently picked up one, "Mom, you have white hair." My mother sighed lightly, patted me with her calloused right hand, and sighed, "Old, old!" I still remember you crying in my arms to suckle, and in the blink of an eye you have grown into a big girl. My hand was on my mother's rickety back, and my heart instantly surged with bitterness. Mother, it is your curved back that holds up the heavy love for me! Neighbors often say to their mothers, "I heard that many children who go out to school will not come back as soon as they go, you must pay close attention to your daughter, if you don't come back, it will be difficult for you to see them in the future!" The mother smiled and said, "As long as she rejoices herself, whether she comes back or not, she will always have a pair of chopsticks at home and leave a door for her."

Particularly short holidays passed quickly. As I had come, I dragged my heavy suitcase and walked out of the house carrying the longing and reluctance of home. The train at three o'clock in the morning, but at six o'clock in the evening had to transfer to another city to wait. My mother did not trust me and had to go with me, and I comforted her, saying, "Where is a twenty-year-old person who still needs to be accompanied by his parents." My mother was stubborn and said that she must take me to the train station, but I couldn't twist it, so I did as she wanted. We got on the bus together and watched the scenery outside the window change, and my mother suddenly said to me, "When I am homesick, I often call, and don't let myself be wronged outside." My tears fell instantly, and the hot tears dripped onto my clothes, and I hurriedly wiped them off with my hands, turned back to my mother and smiled and said, "I had a good life there, especially well, just like at home!" The mother stopped talking. When I entered the train station, my mother still wanted to give me another ride, but I was stopped outside by the security personnel, I waved my hand to my mother hard at this end, signaling her to go back, don't worry, my mother also waved her hand at me at that end to signal me to go fast, she watched me walk and then leave, I could only walk forward, walk, walk to the end of the corner, my mother finally couldn't see my figure, only to turn away, take a few steps and look back several times, repeat several times, and finally reluctantly leave. I stood in a corner and watched my mother's back gradually fade away, and then I suddenly understood the true meaning of Mr. Zhu Ziqing's "Back Shadow".

I got on the train and found my place to sit down, and there was a woman across from her who was feeding her daughter with a bowl of steaming dumplings, and the little girl smiled sweetly at me, "Sister, have you ever eaten dumplings?" I looked at her happy smile, smiled softly, touched her head, and replied, "I have eaten, it is very fragrant, it is delicious, it is stuffed with meat, and it smells of mother."

By this time the train had left the station, and my mother and I had drifted apart, but my heart was as close to her.

I came with a beating heart, like a page of white paper, on which you wrote, described, and drew me clean, pure and beautiful in the world. Mother, you are my place of origin, but also my way home, life is long, not you watch my back fade away, and I hold your hand slowly.

【About the Author】Annan Zhu, Anshunren of Guizhou, a member of the Communist Party of China, a national outstanding volunteer, a contracted writer of the 7th Changhe Poetry Journal, has won the second prize in the 15th National College Students Literary Works Competition, the third prize in the 15th New Olympiad Composition Competition, the first prize in the 16th National University Students Literary Works Competition, and the third prize in the 16th New Olympiad Composition Competition. His works are scattered in "Mountain Pomegranate" and "Learning to Strengthen the Country". "We have been growing all our lives, and we may all have light in our eyes and live like we like."