Everyone has a childhood toy in their hearts - mud zebras

The gate of the courtyard is very open, with a stone pier on the left and right, and several high steps below. On the two black-painted doors, a couplet is engraved: "Loyalty has been passed down for a long time, and poetry has been passed on to the generations." Although it is mottled and peeling, it still has a bit of the momentum of the older generation. In old Beijing, this was called the Guangliang Gate, which was not opened in normal times, and there was a small door next to it, through which people came in and out. There is a platform on the high steps, which is spacious because the door is usually not open. Uncle Wang's stall is placed there, which is very conspicuous, and people walking on the street can see his stall at a glance.

Uncle Wang's stall sells sugar cubes, sour date noodles, foreign picture films, windmills and mud toys. Especially mud toys, most of which are some kittens, dogs, lambs, tigers and other animals, are pinched by Uncle Wang himself, and then painted with different colors, vivid, very good-looking, not expensive to sell, therefore, very popular with children. Sometimes, after school, when I walk to the gate of the compound, I often don't go home first, but stand in front of Uncle Wang's stall, watch for a while, and play for a while. Uncle Wang looked at me and smiled, letting me touch his toys casually, and didn't care about me. If I caught up with Uncle Wang pinching his little clay toy, I would stand there looking at it enough, losing track of time. I came home late and was scolded by my family.

I really admire Uncle Wang's craftsmanship, his fingers are very thick, how can he pinch out such a small animal so dexterously? This is the most amazing thing for me when I was a child.

Uncle Wang was in his early 50s and lived in the east wing of my compound. He is very easygoing and laughs whenever people are. At that time, don't look at the things on Uncle Wang's stall are very cheap, but the life of people in the small street is not rich, and Uncle Wang naturally does not make much money, and can only barely make ends meet.

Uncle Wang and his wife only have one son, but everyone in the compound knows that the son is adopted. At that time, his son was nearly thirty, unmarried, a train driver, and he and Uncle Wang were huddled in an east wing room. How much money does the stall make, Uncle Wang doesn't care, what gives him a headache is that the house is too crowded, and his son will find a daughter-in-law in the future, but how to live? As soon as he mentioned this, Uncle Wang "snorted".

It was when I was in the fourth grade of elementary school, and the reason why I remember it so clearly was because during the "Great Leap Forward", the whole house no longer started in their own house, but went to eat in the street canteen opposite the compound. Before the Spring Festival, there was nothing to do during the winter vacation, and I often went to Uncle Wang's stall to play. That day, he was making toys, and when he saw me approaching, he patted his head and asked, "What do you say to make one?"

And I said, "Be a pony."

He nodded and said yes. After a while, the mud squeezed left and right in his big hand, and it became like a pony. Then he looked up and asked me, "What color do you say?" I casually said, "Black!"

"Black?" Uncle Wang asked me rhetorically, and then said: "It's black, it's not good-looking, let's have a black and white, okay?"

At that time, my mind was spinning, and I didn't think about what this black and white pony would look like. When Uncle Wang painted half of the color, I found out that it turned out to be a small zebra. The black and white curved stripes make this little zebra particularly lively and beautiful. "Uncle Wang, your craftsmanship is awesome!" I couldn't help but praise.

The next day, I was at Uncle Wang's stall, and I saw that the paint of this little zebra was dry, a red silk was tied around its neck, and a small copper bell was hung on the silk.

I love that little zebra so much. Every time I passed by the stall, I couldn't help but stand and look at it repeatedly, as if it was also looking at me. For a while, my mind was full of this little zebra, but unfortunately I didn't have money to buy it. Several times I wanted to open my mouth to ask my family for money, and then I thought that the little zebra had a small copper bell tied around its neck, which was slightly more expensive than ordinary mud toys, so I swallowed the words that came to my throat.

The Spring Festival is approaching day by day, and although the little zebra is still standing on Uncle Wang's stall for the time being, I don't know which lucky child will buy it one day and take it home for the New Year. As soon as I think of this, I feel sad in my heart, as if the little zebra is mine, but it will be snatched away by others, and it is as uncomfortable as a hundred claws scratching my heart. Under such a mentality, I did a "stupid thing".

On that day, it was almost dark, because it was close to the New Year, and there were many people standing in front of the stall, all adults and children to buy toys. I took advantage of the darkness and reached out and "stolen" the little zebra. I quickly put the little zebra into my cotton coat pocket, and the little bell rang softly, and my heart kept beating, feeling that the bell, Uncle Wang seemed to hear it.

This matter was quickly discovered by my father, who asked me to send the little zebra back to Uncle Wang. Following behind my father, I was so scared that I didn't dare to lift my head. Uncle Wang looked at me lovingly and insisted on giving me the little zebra. Dad firmly refused, saying that it would spoil the child. In the end, Uncle Wang had to take back the little zebra and instructed his father: "Don't hit the child, hit the child in the New Year, the child will be unhappy for a year!"

In the summer of that year, Uncle Wang was going to Gansu. This year, in order to evacuate the population of Beijing and support the "three-line construction", the government mobilized people to go to Gansu. Uncle Wang signed up and was quickly approved. All the neighbors in the compound knew that Uncle Wang did this to make room for his son.

When Uncle Wang closed the stall on his last day, I stood aside and watched him silently. He also looked at me, said nothing, and went home. On that day, the side streets seemed deserted.

The next day, when Uncle Wang left, I couldn't see him. When I got home from school and saw the little zebra with a copper bell around its neck on the table, my tears welled up.

More than 40 years have passed, and Uncle Wang's son is in his 70s this year, and he got married and had a child in the east wing room that Uncle Wang left him. His daughter-in-law was tall and beautiful. His son is also tall and handsome. However, Uncle Wang never returned. Doesn't he want his son, doesn't he want his grandson?

Over the past 40 years, I have been to Gansu many times and traveled to many places in Gansu, and every time I go, I think of Uncle Wang and think of this problem that makes me puzzled. Of course, the "mud zebra" will also be remembered.