It's the annual Spring Festival again. For me, who is far away, this festival always carries a touch of sadness and infinite longing for my hometown. This year, my parents are gone, and I have embarked on a long-lost journey back to my hometown, and my heart is full of memories of my relatives and nostalgia for my hometown.
On the morning of the thirtieth day, the sun was shining, and I slowly walked towards the familiar land with the thought of my parents. Going to the grave is the unchanging ritual in the heart of every wanderer, and it is the deepest remembrance of the deceased relatives. Standing in front of the grave, I gently arranged the flowers and lit the incense candles, and at that moment, it was as if I could hear the warm voices of my parents whispering in my ears.
After the worship, I was warmly invited by my brothers from my hometown to stay for dinner. This meal is not only a meal, but also a family reunion, a inheritance of the teachings of parents before their deaths, and a deep attachment to home.
During the dinner, in the words of my brother, I heard a warm little story. It was about my father's life, at that time, the family's financial conditions were not well-off, but my father was always able to find a way to bring the whole family together and share the joy of family life in the most difficult times. Once, during the Chinese New Year, the family was stretched, and my father silently sold the books he had treasured for many years in exchange for a sumptuous Chinese New Year's Eve dinner. That day, our family sat around the fire, and laughter and warmth filled the room. His father's eyes were full of satisfaction, and he said, "Home is not about material abundance, but about the integration of souls." ”
This story is like a warm current that warms my heart that has been sealed for a long time. I looked at every dish on the table, as if I could feel my father's deep love. Yes, no matter where we go, home will always be a harbor for the soul and a source of strength for us to be able to straighten our waists in the wind and rain.
After dinner, we chatted about our lives in the courtyard of our hometown, sharing each other's joys, sorrows, and sorrows. Although our parents are gone, the love and teachings they left us are like the sunshine of this spring, warm and bright, illuminating our way forward.
Dear readers, there are stories in everyone's life, which may be mundane, but they are full of power. In this Qingming Festival, maybe you are also thinking about your deceased relatives, and maybe you are also feeling the warmth of home. Let's cherish those good memories and cherish every emotion around us, because these are the most precious treasures in our lives.
If you like stories like this, if you also have memories that you want to share, you may wish to follow my account, here are more stories about home, about the temperature of love. Let us remember the past and look forward to the future together in this warm spring.
Remember, no matter where you go, your home will always be your back. Follow me, let's meet again in the text, so that the heart is no longer lonely.
(ENDS)
[Note: The above content is fictitious, if there is any similarity, it is purely coincidental.] ]