This is not an ordinary encounter, except for love and warmth, all other adjectives seem pale. On that warm afternoon, a wise and elegant old lady, Margaret, and a vulgar and obese middle-aged man, Charlemagne, met on a park bench.
Charman's birth was the product of a one-night stand by his mother, and his father didn't know who he was. His personality is inferior and cowardly, he also suffers from "dyslexia", so his life has countless troubles, when he was a child, teachers and classmates laughed at him, grew up friends and neighbors bullied, even his mother has always hated him, fortunately there is a good girl Anne who loves him.
Margaret read a book for Charman called The Plague, and Charlemagne was intrigued, he had always been mostly illiterate, he did not know that the words in the book were so beautiful, and then they met here the next afternoon.
Back at home, Charman's mother frantically accuses her son of wreaking havoc in her son's beloved vegetable garden, and they are tired of each other. Even Charman's friends said, "If I had such a mother, I would rather not be her son." Charman said, "I don't have a choice, and so does she."
Lying in his motorhome by the vegetable garden, Charman recalled the past. When he was a child, he once went to the supermarket with his mother, he accidentally knocked the milk on the shelf to the ground, looking at the milk spilled on the ground, his mother yelled at Charman: "Look at you stupid do a good job, I suffered for ten hours, and I gave birth to such a thing as you"! Over the years, Charlemagne has forgotten many things, but he still remembers this incident vividly, and his mother said", "You are such a thing", as if he was a pig and a dog.
There's also the motorhome that Charman now lives in, which was left by one of Charlemagne's mothers many years ago. The man driving the motorhome lived with Charlemagne's mother, who was not yet ten years old at the time, and one day the man slapped Charman and accused his Charman's mother, only to be poked in the thigh by the mad mother with an iron fork. The man ran away and left the caravan, and Charman lived alone in the caravan all these years.
As time went by, Charlemagne listened to a lot of excellent books from Margaret, and slowly Charlemagne learned that Margaret lived in a nursing home, and the money for the accommodation was still spent by her nephew, because she had no children and no daughters. One day Margaret told Charman that she could no longer read to Charman for long periods of time because she had macular disease in her eyes and could go blind.
Charlemagne suddenly felt how lonely Margaret would be if she couldn't read. Girlfriend Anne said, "Then you can read it to her." No one expected that Charlemagne, who suffered from "dyslexia", would finish a thin book for the first time.
Late one night, Charlemagne's mother died without warning. The notary found Charlemagne and told him that his mother had left the house to him. Charlesman didn't believe it, he always thought the house was rented, and the notary said: "Your mother worked in the cannery, worked day and night to save money, and finally bought the house, all for you." And his mother also left him a box with the baby clothes that Charman wore, a picture of his parents, and a black object that was the umbilical cord that Charman was born with.
Charman couldn't help but cry, it turned out that his mother had always loved him. As Margaret said, "If a man's childhood does not receive enough love, then all the love is still waiting for him to discover"
"It turns out that after the mother's love, the hugs of other women are nothing more than comfort, and one day we will return to our mother's grave and cry like an abandoned dog."
Charlemagne's girlfriend is pregnant, and he goes to the nursing home to tell Margaret the good news, but is told that Margaret's nephew sent Margaret to another nursing home because he didn't have money.
In a dilapidated and cluttered nursing home, Charman finds Margaret, who takes the old lady home.
"It was not an ordinary encounter, I found her by chance on a park bench, she was unremarkable, like a little white pigeon, with delicate feathers. She lives between words, and like me, she moves between ordinary words. She gave me a book, and then two, and the stories in the books came to life before my eyes, please don't wither, please don't put it down, we still have time. Please share with me some more of your life, your life, there is not only love in the story of love, sometimes there is not even a word that I love you, but we still love each other. ”