"The moon bends, the stars twinkle, illuminating the child's dream; dandelions, small paper boats, always floating in the child's childhood 、、、、、、" Xie Xiaodong's "The child is the whole world" was once a song that I liked very much when I was a child, and today I wanted to search for it on a whim, but only found a vague audio, although the sound quality was not good, but listening to it, I couldn't help but sigh and cry. Although childhood has left me, it is like the river reflected by the sunset, shining in memory; like the spring water blown by the breeze, it sets off a slight wave in the mind.
When I was a child, I liked to catch scarabs to play, I remember that there was only one tree in our village with the most scarabs, I got up early every day, just to go to the tree to catch the scarabs, every time I used a washing powder pocket to grab a lot of good, and I showed that I had enough to give the scarabs to the dejected little friends, everyone used a thread to tie its feet in the hands to fly, and some children also tied the line to the stick, so that the scarabs flew tired and stopped. When he had done enough, he let go of the scarab and went to catch it the next day. Occasionally, when it is late, other children willfully cry and ask for it from their brother, and the brother will try to lure the scarab beetle with some peels to throw himself into the net. At dusk on summer nights, I would also take a washed ink bottle (the cap was drilled with a small hole) and follow my friends to the grass and crops to catch fireflies, sometimes without a bottle instead of a pea pod, the stars of fireflies are like the elves of the night, attracting my attention, most of the time I will cheer and return with a full load, and occasionally I will hunch my head and return in disappointment. I like to put the bottle next to the pillow, and the light of the fireflies flashing on and off comes out of the glass bottle, which is really beautiful! Watching me also enter a sweet sleep, fireflies lit up my childhood and drew a poetic stroke in the trajectory of my childhood.
Friends love to follow their parents who chop firewood to the mountains to pick gardenias, and I am no exception, sometimes in order to make the trip worthwhile, my friends will not even let go of small flower bones. Only the white buds will bloom in the bottle, and those flower bones, only inserted in the paddy field will blossom, in order not to let other small partners find their own gardenia, we will all hide very secret, when the flowers bloom often branches are rooted, everyone likes to take gardenia flowers to school to send teachers to send classmates, experience what is called sending people gardenia, hand has afterscent. There are also tragedies, that is, the flowers that I have worked so hard to serve have been stolen by others, that is really beating my chest and hurting my heart! Gardenia is a rural flower, and its characteristics of choosing the environment and taking root wherever it falls are similar to those of us rural children, so the fragrance of gardenia flowers often floats in my deep old dreams.
I like to rush the day the most, so that you can follow your parents to the scene, so that you can pick up the cigarette box in the garbage heap, at that time, we fan the cigarette box to determine the order of the fan at the price of the cigarette, so the expensive cigarette box will be happy to die, see other people's pants in the bulging will be envious, you will know that he went to the dump again. In childhood, we didn't have money to buy toys, but we would find happiness on our own, we used apricot cores and peach cores to play a game of scratching, we used woolen threads to flip flowers, we would pinch our butts to bounce glass beads, we would bend over and roll iron rings, we would jump house with small wood, we would pile castles with bud cores, we would make our own slingshot water guns and bamboo guns that used eucalyptus seeds as bullets, we would use mulberry poles to make curved bows with mulberry bark to smoke gyros, we would use Qinggang rice to insert bamboo sticks to do rotation, we would use mud to shoot cannons, who would hit loud, who punched holes big, and use thin tiles to float in the water. Using the grass pad on the slope to play shuttle board、、、、、、 on the way to school we wheat whistle, on the way to school we bamboo flute melodious, we let ordinary life blossom out of the happy heart flower.
At that time, adults rarely bought us anything to eat, but we did not lack food: sweet March bubbles, purple and black mulberries, dark stains, slightly sweet spotted dove bubbles, sour and sweet thorn bubbles, delicious rescue food gradually ripening to stimulate our taste buds. The yellow-orange-orange prickly pears on the cliffs, the fragrant sweet potatoes in the cemetery, and the crisp magnetic melons in the paddy fields all attract our hungry wolf-like eyes. Silk grass roots, sour grass, acacia flower buds, cannabis flower buds, sorghum stalks, corn stalks, gray ba... We don't let go of anything that we can put in our mouths. In the summer, there are also sorbet sellers who go from village to village, and the sound of sorbet sorbets sounds to us, "Sorbets!" sorbet! Lightweight! Lightweight! "It's our mantra, because only sorbets will be sold at a reduced price if the sorbet is almost sold out." In the winter "Dang! while! while! The sound is our gospel, because when we hear this, we know that the candy seller is coming. In the second half of the year, bubbles and popcorn will come, the family will also make straw rice candy, and the pants pocket will be stuffed with melon seeds, biscuits and so on. Singing "carrots, honey sweet, looking at the New Year" we are really "childhood does not know the taste of sorrow"! Oh, how can we forget the fire that brought us convenience in childhood? After harvesting crops in the afternoon, adults often burn the ash pile, and a large group of children gather around the ash pile, burning sweet potatoes, popping beans, fried peanuts, roasting corn cobs, laughing and laughing in the crackling explosion. Even loach yellow eel is also thrown into the fire to eat, dipped in a little sauce is the best delicious、、、、、、 although we are a group of delicious children, but also a group of sensible children, no matter what they find delicious, even if the greedy children will leave the biggest and best to adults, because we know the hard work of adults all year round.
From an early age, the children of the peasant family must help the adults to do what they can: pick up eggs every day, drive the chickens with the ringing tube made of bamboo, do not let the chickens waste the grain in the dam, let the ducks and geese herd cattle, cut the pig grass and drag the grain grass, break the grain and cut the wheat, cut the rice, pull the soybeans to pick the mung beans, hoard the leaf and jute leaves to dry, cut firewood and carry water for cooking, raise silkworms four times a year, and the task of picking mulberry leaves basically falls on the children who are slightly older, and it is not to talk about being diligent or not, that is our responsibility. In addition to doing these, but also to find ways to make money to help the family, boys will catch lobsters, move crabs, touch the field snails, will split bamboo into a fishing rod of about 2 feet to catch loach yellow eel, will take a flashlight at night to illuminate the frogs, I will be a long time after my brother, give him a hand. Girls will pry the roots of the miscellaneous children to dig up herbs to pick up tatters and ears of wheat, and if they are lucky, they will pick up a lot of chicken silk bacteria in exchange for a lot of money. In order to help their parents share, partners do whatever it takes. At that time, life was very bitter, but in the midst of suffering, I did not feel bitterness, and I was happy without suffering.
Nostalgic for the poignant love story that my mother sang to me when I was a child; nostalgic for the time when I sat on my father's shoulder and went to the village to watch a movie in my childhood; nostalgic for the days when the three of us brothers and sisters secretly mischiefed when our parents were not at home, although after the East Window incident, my brothers and sisters often took me as a scapegoat, but who made me the youngest? I will not be picked up by my parents when I run into trouble; nostalgia for the night when I slept with my friends in a dustpan with my friends in the dustpan and listened to the grandfathers talk about the mountains, those appalling ghost stories had scared me into nightmares but I couldn't stop, those confusing and complicated ancient public cases once made me think about my stomach, nostalgic for the most bragging grandfather shook his head and shook his head and chanted "The real "Three Kingdoms", the fake "Fengshen God", "Journey to the West", "Liaozhai" coaxing the dead" of the casual 、、、、、、 childhood, too worthy of everyone's memories! The most difficult thing to forget is childhood! I often wonder, what does childhood mean to me? Childhood, perhaps, is the unforgettable dark fragrance of my light and breezy life? Childhood, perhaps, is a light boat drifting in my vague dreams? Childhood, perhaps, is a full moon resting in my open heart? Childhood will not come again, but may childhood always come to sleep!