On the field of hope | Those flowers, those people

Text | Xiang YingChao

The summer heat has passed, Lin Hua thanked the spring red, too hurried. The seasons are reincarnated, the flowers bloom, and the spring and autumn come and go. Remember their splendor, remember the smiling faces.

"That laughter reminds me of my flowers, quietly opening in every corner of my life..."

Flower growers

Once fascinated by the holiness and romance of the ancient city of Santorini, but also like the poetry and lingering of the small bridge of the stone road in Jiangnan Water Town, I have always felt that the alleys and streets in the north are more human fireworks, and the romance and poetry are quite far away, until I met the rose flowers along the way.

It was the south wall of a family, against the side of the road, three meters square place planted several roses, branches along the wall facing upwards, climbing very arbitrarily, the leaves swaying with the wind, no lack of water and no lack of fat look proud very much, flowers like climbing ladders up, the more up the bloom more enthusiastic, there are pink, there are big red, reflecting each other. Not satisfied with this family, they began to stretch to both sides, crossing the narrow road between the houses, encroaching on their beauty to more places, but the families on both sides also liked them very much and let them move boldly. Maybe it is the help of the wind, maybe it is the moisture of the rain, maybe it is the care of the flower grower and the eager eyes that appreciate it every day, so that there is joy and beauty along the way.

In the village, most people like to grow vegetables at the door, or low leeks and shallots, or brackets of kidney bean cucumbers, there are also tree planters, some people like persimmon trees, take the good omen of "everything is as expected", some people like pomegranate trees, take the good meaning of "more children and more blessings", but plant less flowers, because the practicality is a little worse. But a handful of shallots, the fresh fragrance of a handful of shallots, a rose flower, and the fragrance of a rose flower, all add a taste to life.

But I feel that the person who can plant flowers at the door is the happiest and most satisfying person in life. How comfortable it is not to worry about life, but to just plant flowers and enjoy the moon. The flowers planted in front of the door show that they love life in the village, and what blooms is never a flower, but a love for life. I only wish that more people plant flowers, and the fragrance of flowers in the village will drift farther...

Flower pickers

One morning, I was driving down a path to the village committee, and I inadvertently caught a glimpse of an old grandmother hunched over her waist, holding a special long sickle and slapping at a tree of blooming acacia flowers. Time was tight, hurried by, and when I came back from my busy work, she was still there, so I stopped the car and sat with her on the curb stone, she looked down and carefully picked the acacia flowers, one by one spread on an old cloth, the yard was neatly arranged, I also took a few branches that she had just slapped down, and picked them with her, she looked up and smiled at me, which was a thank you.

After picking it, she stood up and beat it again, one or two, under her rhythmic beating, and rained acacia flowers, which should have been the sickle she had just harvested the wheat, tied with a very long stick, which was a new tool, and I sat on the side of the road and watched, imagining the scene of her harvesting the wheat, which should be so powerful. The flowers fell to the ground, and she picked them up one by one, and when they were stained with soil, she carefully blew them with her mouth, and I thought that it was impossible to pick up the ears of wheat from her wheat field, and she must have carefully examined them without falling.

Seeing that I had no intention of leaving, she finally opened her mouth to chat with me about home, and I couldn't help but ask her why she wanted to pick up acacia flowers, and she smiled: I was tired from work lately, I couldn't sleep well, and I drank this tranquility. Without the intention of taking a break, she stood up again and got busy: You are small, you don't know that this good thing is everywhere.

On the way back, smelling the fragrant flowers and watching the scene of the harvest in the field, my heart was more stable than ever. Perhaps what we pursue all our lives is the present, and we have been running forward to pursue the meaning of life, stumbling, but we have not found that the flowers floating in front of us are the best medicine for us to heal our wounds.

Flower giver

Recently, the summer heat is hot to do nucleic acid, so the time to get up early is a little earlier, the morning is cool and accompanied by the wind, and I don't feel sleepy, all the work in the village compound is in order, and the young people who go to the morning shift come to queue up less than five o'clock, sometimes with half a fritter in their mouths, and walk in a hurry. The most leisurely is the early rise of the old man, five or six o'clock they are not in a hurry to come to the queue, are given to the young people on the morning shift, sometimes two or three people stand at the door of the brigade courtyard, waiting for an old friend who may need to make breakfast at home to come out, standing under a fixed point of the big tree first nagging for a while, talking and laughing before coming in.

The weekly nucleic acid work seems to have become a habitual gathering in the village, and everyone does not say "Have you eaten?" Changed to "Do nucleic acids?" Remind each other, the enthusiastic bride will also pick up people who have not yet done nucleic acid: why are you not so active, and you are waiting for you if you don't look at the hot day! Jokes also turn into concerns.

It was more than eight o'clock, this was the happiest time in the brigade courtyard, the children got up, the trolley was pushed, held by the adults, and they were not very good at walking and ran forward desperately, and they appeared in the brigade courtyard one after another. A one-and-a-half-year-old doll, estimated to have just learned to walk, a tender yellow moon flower has been held in her hand for a long time, it is estimated that her mother to tease her, specially picked, it is her turn to do nucleic acid, obediently sit on the stool and shout "ah", do not go, on the stool with small fat legs laughing, the aunt who does nucleic acid is also laughed at by her, and told her: Do it well, come back next week. She was not in a hurry, and slowly slid down from the stool and gave the hot moon flower to her aunt who was doing nucleic acid. When I left, I didn't forget to make a gesture of bye-bye, which made the "big white" people laugh.

A busy day, the evening is quiet a lot, the day is getting hotter and hotter, the "big white" people are particularly hard, but the crumpled moon flower, has been quietly placed on the table to make nucleic acid, like encouragement, gave them different strength, but also like thanks, thank them for guarding the tranquility and happiness of the village with sweat, the old man teased the grandchildren, the children are innocent, the young people are running for their careers, this is probably the best appearance of the prosperous world...

In the early summer of June, looking back at the hurry, the road when I came, the bridge I walked, the depth and shallowness, right and wrong, in a trance, the flowers of this year, those people related to it, the things related to it, emerged more and more clearly, touching me, warming me, guiding me.

The fireworks in the world, the most touching of the hearts of mortals, the rest of their lives, often grateful, warm and bright, flowers blooming, no regrets and no complaints.

(Agricultural Bank of China Rizhao Juxian Sub-branch Xiang Yingchao)

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