Mother's Day | Jia Shuo Column: Mother

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My mother was a hard-working woman, and as far back as I can remember, my mother was like a perpetual motion machine, running non-stop, and she seemed to have endless work and never tire.

My father was a worker in the CaoXian Wood Factory, and in the 1990s, how glorious it was for a village to have a person who worked in the county seat? Mother had always been humble to her father, she had never even spoken aloud to him, always so obedient. When dawn came, my father rode a motorcycle to work, and when he returned home from the distant county town, it was night, although it was also very hard, but he could not take care of the family's work. Therefore, the burden of raising four children is all on the shoulders of the mother. In addition, the family has six acres of land to plant. Fortunately, the children understand things too early, wake up in the morning and can't find their mothers, the older ones will carry hoes longer than themselves to the ground to find their mothers, and the younger ones will stay at home to cook on the fire and wait for their mothers to return. I, as the third child in the family, usually work in the fields, so I can best remember my mother's hardships in farming.

My family has a piece of land close to Zhangzhuang, we all call it "Zhangzhuangtou", Zhangzhuangtou's land has three acres, my concept of three acres is boundless, because hoeing grass has to be hoeed all day, from the morning dew is thick to the evening fire clouds are full of red sky, my mother has always been in Zhangzhuangtou's field. She squatted into the waist-deep cornfield to sheave the grass, and I was next to my mother, in another grass. I was young, far behind when I was grassy, sometimes halfway down, and when I looked up, the dark green corn leaves were so dense that I couldn't see my mother anymore. I called out to my mother eagerly, like a calf that had lost an old cow, anxious and frightened. My mother returned to me far away on the ground, and when I heard my mother's voice, I suddenly became much more down-to-earth and began to bury my head in the draft.

In the middle of the night, we squatted under the poplar tree and rested, and the poplar leaves rattled. My mother pointed to the land of the neighbor's house and proudly said to our brothers and sisters: "You see, just by looking at the growth of the grass in the field, you can see who is diligent and who is lazy." "Not only is the ground in our family's cornfield clean and free of weeds, but it's also clear and bright, and you can see the ground at a glance. Because in addition to the grass, the mother also has to pick up the corn leaves at the bottom. The family feeds the cows and picks up the corn leaves, which has become a daily homework for us. This work is harder than grass, and if you are not careful, you will be scratched by the leaves. Mother told us to wear long clothes and trousers and wear straw hats to cover our faces. On sweltering summer days, it's so fully armed that its taste can be imagined. After less than half a day of drying, the thorns were unbearable, and the more we scratched, the more itchy we were, one by one, we cried bitterly, preferring to play with shovels in the ground rather than plunge into the sweltering cornfield. Mother did not scold us, but squatted in the deepest part of the corn bush, plucked the leaves in a sharp motion, and then removed the newly grown weeds, and finally tied a small bundle of corn leaves with two wide corn leaves as rope. Her movements were so skillful that the stacks of corn leaves bundled every few meters were arranged evenly to the ground.

When the corn was in full bloom, the beans and flowers were growing, so I secretly went to the next field to pluck peanuts. Peanuts are overgrown, yellow horseshoe-shaped flowers are dotted, and I joyfully pull up a large thicket of luxuriant bushes, but only a few white and hard grains of straw blindness, biting up a stream of water, even pulling up a few trees. I was so disappointed that my mother would find out, so I quickly buried it in the soil. If you are lazy, your mother will not take care of it, but if you steal the peanuts from the neighbor's house, your mother will scold. We thought we had left no trace of it, and we didn't know how our mother had found it, perhaps she could judge it by the wet dirt on the ground, or if she smelled fresh peanuts, and she changed her past kindness, stared at us with extremely sharp eyes, and asked very seriously: "Who did this?" "If we confess our mistakes, our mother will only sigh and accuse us of wasting food." He also ordered us not to pluck the neighbor's peanuts again. If we blame each other, our mother will beat us up strongly. Whenever we plucked the neighbor's peanuts, my mother would take the cucumber beans we grew at dinner and pay the aunt next door. The eldest aunt would blame her mother: "Oh! What is a peanut worth? Let the kids eat it! ”

There is great harmony between the mother and the neighbor. They put the soles of their shoes together and the hanging shoes. Mother is good at wearing soles, and she will make something called "pants". Boil a pot of porridge, paste the old patchwork pieces of cloth on an abandoned old door, and expose them to the sun. When it is dried, the whole layer can be peeled off. The mother's paste back is for several uses, and the eldest aunt and the sister-in-law in the front yard love to come to my house to visit the door, more than shoes, hanging back. Mothers can embroider flowers, neighbors often come to communicate with their mothers about embroidery stitches, and mothers will give the neighbors a few strands of the purchased color silk thread. In junior high school, I still wore my mother's embroidered shoes, with a lotus blossom on the upper of the light blue shoe. My mother's eyesight was not enough to see the needle eye clearly, let me help thread the needle, the mother at that time was very strong, as if she never knew the hardships, always so tough. After she finished pasting her pants, she took a scoop and squatted on the ground to pick up beans. Soybeans have long been returned to the warehouse, the pods have also been stacked, and when the beans are beaten, there will be sporadic beans that will burst out and scatter into the brick crevices, wheat straw or next to the chicken pen. The mother squatted on the ground and searched very carefully for the few beans. I didn't think much of it, but my mother said, "A bowl of soybeans can be exchanged for two pounds of tofu!" "My mother not only picked up the scattered beans on the ground, but also peeled the pods that had been peeled clean very carefully when she burned the fire under the stove. Sometimes she could really touch a few unbroken ones, and she would peel them out very carefully. When burning sun-dried peanut stalks, my mother still retains this habit. I always have a sawn-beaked gourd next to my stove with a few dried soybeans or peanuts.

This habit of "picking up leaks" has been with my mother for many years. In addition to picking beans, my mother would go to other people's fields to luan peanuts or sweet potatoes after harvesting her crops every autumn. Not only my mother, but my neighbors also retain this habit. Therefore, during the annual sweet potato and peanut harvest season, a large team of mothers and neighbors and children went to the fields of other people's homes after the autumn harvest to pick up leaks. Early in the morning, my mother prepared dry food, but a few dried steamed buns, a few pickle lumps and a pot of water. Sometimes my mother was willing to cook a few salted duck eggs, but most of them were distributed to us. The children carry their own small hoes, and the mother carries large hoes. The hoe had followed its mother for many years, and the handle was as smooth as jade. Wherever Luan Peanut's team went, most of the children were playing with flips, and the fields that had been collected by others and luan had long been clean, and there was no fish that had slipped through the net. But the mothers searched very carefully, sometimes with sweet potatoes left out in the deep soil or a few forgotten peanuts. When we passed a village called Changzhai, we were shocked by the sugarcane forest in front of me, it was the first time I saw sugarcane, I had only picked up the sugarcane heads discarded by others on the way to mow the grass, and I had never eaten sugarcane once, and what I saw in front of me was actually a sugarcane forest! As I stared at the sugar cane field, my mother and eldest mother had raised their hoes in a clean sweet potato field next to me. The owner of the house missed the kettle, turned back halfway, and saw our group of boy scouts led by our mother, and the man waved us away impatiently, saying that he had not yet cleaned up. He glanced at us suspiciously, with a look of utter contempt. Finally he found the kettle on the ground, and he probably guarded us out as thieves. Many years later, I still can't forget that look. I even resented my mother for pleading with others to allow her to luan the sweet potato field, which was already very clean.

Her mother was humble and stoic, and she did not care about her face in order to make a living. Her bare skin was dark for many years, and I had always thought that my mother was the same. It wasn't until many years later that I heard my father talk about my mother's family lineage. My grandfather participated in three major battles and won the third class merit, and after his retirement, my grandfather enjoyed various preferential treatment from the government. The mother is the only daughter of the grandfather, and the degree of eating and wearing is already quite favorable compared to the ordinary people's family. At that time, my father's family had many brothers, and the family was poor and in a stage where food and clothing were still difficult to solve. Even so, my grandfather still had a crush on my father, who was also a soldier, and my grandfather entrusted my second grandfather to be a matchmaker and promised his only daughter to his father. Father at that time decent bride price can not come up with a piece, although it is a young hero, but poverty makes the resolute father lose his confidence in speaking, see the first side, the father faced the mother with a delicate face and superior family, inferior, saying that marrying may be poor. The careless mother asked how poor she was, and the father said half-jokingly that it might have reached the point of asking for food. Ignoring the girl's shyness, the mother said very seriously: "If you really reach that step, you will prepare a pair of crutches for me." Years later, my father mentioned this and was still in tears. I saw a picture of my grandfather later, a grandfather in a military uniform with the courage and fortitude of a soldier with angular edges, and his military uniform was full of medals of all sizes. My grandfather, my mother's father, was a meritorious warrior of the Republic! Grandpa did not look at the wrong person, and my father always loved my mother very much. However, due to the poor family, in order to fulfill the promise made to her father, her mother fought against poverty and gambled for a lifetime.

I don't know if my mother ever regretted her original choice, nor did she know if she could have remembered the worries of food and clothing when she first became a daughter, but I remember that since I understood things, my mother has been like this. It seems that the mother was born to be diligent and frugal, and she was always washing and toiling. In the winter days when the water dripped into ice, I always saw my mother when I returned from school, always half squatting in front of the laundry basin to wash sweet potatoes. She wore a rough apron with high sleeves, her half-amputated arms dipped in cold water, red and red. "Mom, don't wash it." I almost cried. "It's not cold, Nell, you touch it, and the freshly pressed well water is still warm." My mother looked up at me with a grin. Not far away on the clothesline, there were two ropes of washed kelp, and the mother actually washed all day in this cold weather!

I heard that God could not dwell in the human world, so she incarnated as a mother, taking care of every family and guarding every child. If I could adjust the time machine, I would like to turn it back to one autumn noon when I was seven years old, when my mother was picking beans in the yard, the sun was warm, the old hen had just finished laying her eggs and clattering and showing off, the cockscomb flowers under the window ledge were in full bloom, time stood still, and the mother looked good, just like when she first became a daughter...

If the angel is in the human world, it is the appearance of the mother.

About the author: Jia Shuo, a literature lover engaged in education. Always have the heart of a child, and always have the idea of benevolence. The world is noisy and trivial, but it is comfortable to cultivate hedges and plant chrysanthemums in your heart, and enjoy the quiet years in peace. May the pen be accompanied, the dream be the horse, and the poetry dwell.

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