The music of love you approve, the shackles of love I break free. May you not be confused in your heart, not confused by emotions, and prefer to be lacking rather than indiscriminate. If you are confused from the extreme, you will wake up everywhere, and if you let go of the difficulty, then the world will be wide. Hello everyone, welcome to the Min Min Emotional Classroom.
In the Daliang Mountains of Sichuan Province, a photographer who traveled around the world recorded such a scene with his lens: on a barren slope with dense mountains, rugged paths and inaccessible people, there was a low and dilapidated tile house. The owner of the tile house is three brothers and sisters, three young and ignorant children. The eldest is a boy, 10 years old, who is in the third grade of primary school in the local area, and his grades are very poor, because there is no one to tutor him for many years.
The second brother is the younger brother, 8 years old, but has no language, cannot speak, and has not gone to school. Old man, is a girl, 4 years old, but not afraid of children, also did not go to school.
In the desolate mountains, in the deserted tile houses, there were only these three poor children. So where did their parents go? It turned out that my father had died three years earlier. The children's mother, on the other hand, did not stay at home to take care of the three young children alone, but remarried to a distant village, about thirty or forty minutes away from home. Usually, the boss boarding system, only come back once a Friday. The rest of the time, only the second and third children left in the tile house were two children who had no ability to survive.
So is there anyone to take care of their food and living? How do they live without their mothers? They are hungry and sick, what should they do? With these questions in mind, on a clear weekend, the photographer accompanied a nearby villager, a girl next door named Gigi, to the tile house. When I first arrived, I was lucky that the child's mother happened to come home this day, and all three children were there. The boss was sitting on the ground, looking at the sun in the distance.
The second man bowed his head and dug up the sand on the ground to play. The third elder walked up to his mother and shouted for a hug. The child's mother, who looks 40 years old (maybe the real age is a little younger, the mountain people look easy to look old because of long-term sun exposure, labor, and lack of maintenance), wearing a simple brown jacket, but it is still clean. She had her hair high behind her head, dark skin, didn't know mandarin, and could only speak the local Yi dialect.
The arrival of a group of photographers made her a little overwhelmed. Although a little shy, she is still very enthusiastic, and the simple and thick smile on her face all expresses the friendliness of the people in the mountains. With the consent of the child's mother, Gigi took the photographer and visited the tile house where the children lived. Walking into the tile house, there are only two rooms, a pigsty and a cow pen. The floor of these two rooms is full of potholed adobe, and as soon as the water is soaked in, the ground can be mud. Looking around, in the vast hall, there were only two tables with clear visible mold spots, and the rotten holes everywhere, and the pots and pans that wiped the black ash at the slightest touch.
Further inside, there is the bedroom of three children. The bedroom is very small, has no windows, and even in the bright daylight, the house is still dark. In the bedroom, there was a crumbling thin wooden bed, and several thin blankets and quilts were piled up horizontally and vertically. The cotton wool inside the quilt leaked out. The photographer asked the child's mother worriedly whether it was cold to sleep at night, and the child's mother nodded nonchalantly.
At the very end of the house is an abandoned kitchen connected to the child's bedroom. There was nothing on the kitchen except a red brick stove. Because it has not been used for many years, the stove top has been moldy. Gigi, a neighbor girl, said the kitchen had been almost unused since the child's father died. Because usually the three children do not know how to cook, and the mother has long remarried, rarely come back to make a fire for the children. Just as Gigi was taking the photographer on a tour of the kitchen, he heard the howling of several piglets in the pigsty opposite.
Looking closer, there were two small, dry and skinny pigs in the pigsty, lying on the fence, looking cutely at the visiting stranger. Gigi explains: "These pigs are usually taken care of by the child's uncle and will help feed them if the neighbors are free. Other people's New Year pigs are all very fat, and if you look at their families, they are all very thin. "It can be said that the typical family disciple is surrounded by four walls. It is conceivable that the three children who usually do not have the mother's management are how to survive every day.
When Gigi took the photographer to tour the house and outside the house, the three children watched all this and did not know what was happening. The photographer gave them the lollipops they had brought, and the boss didn't say anything, looked at the photographer gratefully, and reached over.
Because the second brother could not speak yet, he just buried his head in his lollipop. At this time, he may only be able to feel a hint of sweetness in life from the candy in his mouth. The eldest of the three children, who was relatively lively, boldly walked up to the photographer and said: "Thank you uncle." The eldest found that his younger brothers and sisters' faces were dirty, so he took a blue towel while holding a lollipop and took turns wiping the faces of his brother and sister.
Although the child is small, he is very sensible. Everyone was relieved to think that the child's mother had returned home, but Gigi told the filmmaker that the child's mother had just returned, but before dark that day, she had to rush back to her new home. Because after remarrying, she and her current husband had another child, only a few months old. Looking at the gloomy expressions of the three children, especially the eldest, the heart that everyone had just put down began to stir up again. After the mother leaves, how do the three children eat dinner? After the eldest went to school on Monday, who would take care of the other two children for the next five days? Looking at the three children who did not understand the world, the photographer could not help but come to them and have a conversation with the boss.
"Do you want your mother to be with you?"
"Think!"
The little boy, who had just turned 10, squatted on the ground and nodded vigorously.
"How often do you come back to your mother?"
The little boy's eyes, which had just lit up with hope, instantly dimmed, and he sniffed his mouth hard, but he didn't know how to say it.
When the photographer asked him again, the little boy squeezed out a few words with a voice so small that he could hardly hear it:
"One day, two days."
Tears began to run in his eyes.
"How often do you come back?" The photographer saw that the child could not be sure and asked again.
"Long time!"
The little boy moved his squated legs, and his eyes were full of irrepressible sadness.
At that moment, I could clearly capture the helplessness and despair that was hidden between his eyebrows.
"Your dad left early, didn't he?"
"Yes."
"Then who usually takes you?"
"Mom."
"But didn't your mother remarry?"
The little boy bowed his head, and there was another moment of silence.
"Do you usually miss your mother?"
"Think!" The little boy nodded vigorously.
"What about your younger siblings after you go to school on Monday?"
"I don't know."
The little boy had a helpless expression, and he did not know how his younger siblings lived at home when he was away.
He didn't know if his mother would come back every Friday when he came home from school. In this dilapidated and deserted house, he and his younger siblings looked forward to their mother's return countless times. But when he stood on the hillside and looked down, on the mountain road leading to his home, he could never see his mother's figure. In the process of the conversation between the photographer and the boss, the child looks melancholy, his eyes are sluggish, he is silent, and between words, he can still feel his weakness and sensitivity.
After many netizens read it, they all expressed "inexplicable heartache.". Yeah, this shouldn't be a 10-year-old child, what it should look like. But what can be done? The current situation of the children is that they rely on the alms and relief of their neighbors and their uncles, and there is no next meal, hoping that their mother will come home every day. Her father died young, but her mother, who became a widow overnight, and although she had three young sons to raise, she still could not change her determination to remarry. In this regard, many netizens expressed their opposition, but some people expressed their understanding of the child's mother.
In fact, in my opinion, everyone has their own way of living and choosing. Perhaps, for the mother, under the premise that she does not have the culture and ability to support her children, under the deep-rooted concept of "women should marry and have children" in poor mountainous areas, she has used herself as a tool for inheritance. Perhaps, my mother feels that in this life, people should live out themselves well, and they cannot give up on themselves and forget themselves at any time. For example, the pursuit of love, the pursuit of marriage, the pursuit of everything you want. But for whatever reason, we must never forget that we have a responsibility on our shoulders, and behind us, there are children who need to rely on us.
This is the most striking feature of us as human beings, especially as sentient beings, that distinguish us from other animals. This feature has nothing to do with poverty, nothing to do with hardship, only about love and responsibility! I hope that the three poor children will get help from well-wishers.
Gently I went, just as I came softly, I waved my sleeve and said goodbye next time. Time is like a reverse journey, gone forever, sighing the past leisurely, it is better to stride forward, but the love thread, cut off the feelings, Min Min will move forward with you, hand in hand, goodbye to the past, to the future.