The kindness of the grandparents
Text/Zhang Fanghua
It has been many years since my grandparents left us, but their voices and smiles are always in my mind, their deep love still warms and moisturizes my heart, and their Yin Yin Ende is forever engraved on my heart monument!
My grandparents had two daughters under their knees, my mother was the eldest and my aunt was the second oldest. Although the old man did not have a son, he saw that the two daughters' families were prosperous, and he also felt great relief in his heart, so he poured all his efforts into our two families. At that time, my family had a lot of people and little labor (eight of our brothers and sisters were still young), which made life difficult, and there was often a shortage of food. Whenever we were hungry and cold, our grandparents would always send us the grain, cotton, firewood and grass they had saved in time, so that we survived one famine after another. I remember that one year on the eve of the Spring Festival, when my parents were frowning because they had no money to handle the New Year goods, my grandfather came to my house like a god, and looking at the piece of pork that the old man had just bought, my father and mother were full of tears, whether they were happy and grateful, or ashamed and sour, the taste was inextricable!
People often say, "Adults live the life of children." "My grandparents were eager for their grandchildren to get ahead and become useful talents for their families and the country. At every juncture of our brother's growth, the elderly will always give the most intimate care, physical and mental thoughtfulness, financial support, spiritual encouragement, and directional guidance. In the summer of 1963, just after my high school graduation and junior high school exams, a huge sore suddenly grew on my thigh, and my grandparents were anxious, afraid that they would miss my studies. So he took me to his house and asked the best local doctor to treat me, and stayed for several days to take good care of me. On the day the wound healed, just when his father sent an acceptance letter from Heze No. 2 Middle School, the two old men cried with joy and frequently applauded.
The bucket turns to the stars, the sun and the moon reincarnate. Later, our brothers and sisters gradually grew up, and my two younger brothers and I became state cadres and workers. My grandparents couldn't hide their joy, not only telling people how good their grandchildren were, but also often telling us: "We must do a good job!" These heavy words inspire me all the time, spur me on, so that I dare not slack off at any time, lest I live up to the ardent expectations of the old man.
In the grandparents, it is not only rich in the melting love for flesh and blood relatives, but also contains a broad and profound human true feeling. Don't look at them as illiterate peasants, but they are all models of self-cultivation. My grandfather was a decent man, enthusiastic and bold, with a wise mind and a capable job, and was a respected family leader in the village. Although my grandmother was an ordinary housewife, she had a bodhisattva heart, and if anyone had a difficult problem, she would help her, and often moved people to tears! They have never tried to return their lifelong kindness to others, and even the coffin where they buried themselves has long been silently handled by the second elder; even at the last moment of life, the benevolent heart of the old man still shines brightly.
I remember that year, my grandfather was bedridden for several days, and although we sought medical treatment in many ways, we were eventually diagnosed as "old disease" (the meaning of exhaustion). But when he was still alive, he was still thinking about us, except for himself: "My illness is not cured, don't spend money for me anymore!" This sentence is stinging our nerves over and over again. When I gently leaned over to explain my reasons to him for a short meeting (two days round trip) in the province, the old man still whispered so kindly: "Public affairs are tight, you go, I'm fine!" "Unexpectedly, on the night I left home, my grandfather passed away suddenly— and this became my eternal pain!" After I returned, I threw myself on the bed where the old man slept and wept loudly, knelt down in front of the old man's new grave and whimpered, I was my grandfather's most beloved grandson, I sincerely prayed that the old man would go all the way and be blessed with nine springs!
My grandmother died on the first day of the Lunar New Year in 1999. When the brothers brought their wives and grandchildren together in their hometown for the New Year, my grandmother, who was raising a child in our family, couldn't help but be overjoyed, and tears of happiness flashed in her eyes from time to time. She was also busy cleaning up her seats and wielding a broom to sweep the confetti scattered by firecrackers in the courtyard. Maybe her old man was too excited, or maybe God specially arranged such a grand life curtain ceremony for her, just in the thick atmosphere of the whole family celebrating the New Year happily, and the whole village fathers and fellow villagers were constantly congratulating each other on the New Year, the old man suddenly fainted! No matter how much we cried and rescued, her eyes never opened again!
Recently, in an essay by Jin Jin, I suddenly read the classic new saying of He Ziquan, a famous historian on the mainland: "To maintain health is to cultivate morality, great virtue must live, small virtue also lives, there is virtue to live, there is no virtue and no life." "My maternal grandparents lived to the age of 82 and 90 respectively in the joy of heaven and the reverence and love of the people, and they walked so safely, it is no wonder that people say that the old man is a blessing accumulated from a lifetime of virtue and good deeds!"
About the Author:
Zhang Fanghua, pen name Qingquan, a native of Heze City, Shandong Province, is a member of the Chinese Essayists Association, a member of the Shandong Writers Association, a member of the Western China Essay Society, a member of the Shandong Provincial Prose Literature Association, and an advisor and former vice chairman of the Heze Writers Association. His works have been published in newspapers and periodicals such as China Procuratorate, China Discipline Inspection and Supervision Daily, Shandong Literature, Times Literature, Qinghai Lake, Writers Daily, Contemporary Prose, Selected Western Prose, Heze Daily, Peony Evening News, etc.; he has won the National Outstanding Literary and Art Works Award, the First Cai Wenji Literary Award, the Qilu Literary Works Annual Exhibition Excellence Award, the Times Literature Annual Prose Award, and the First Peony Literature Award. He is the author of the essay collection "Song of the Heart", "Looking Up and Flying", and the poetry collection "Feelings Of Attachment".
Editor: Ma Xuemin
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