Hometown stories circulate

Stories circulate

Owner of Shuhua Building

The predecessors planted trees, and the posterity cooled off. A sour pear tree in front of my hometown is probably seventy or eighty years old. Every time I come home, I always have to glance at it, this tree connects my father's childhood with my childhood, it is the memory of the family. The cowardly grandfather had long since been buried, and his labor reminded future generations of his gentle smile and difficult life at casual moments. Is he still plagued by hunger in the distant kingdom of heaven?

When we were young, because our parents were too busy, we could only go bare-butt and entertain ourselves on the ground, and all the toys were self-made. Although I was covered in dirt every day, my parents did not blame me, so I fulfilled my unfettered childhood. Today's children, every day at least one adult with a close eye, do everything with the guidance of adults, but can not according to their own wishes to have fun. When are children happier? The advantages and disadvantages of the substance are obvious, and the happiness in the heart is probably better at random.

A few days ago, an unscrupulous construction truck ran over the bodies of the two grandchildren, and their lives were thin and fragile. From the owner's point of view, money is the best way to solve it. And the family members have to measure the days of losing their loved ones day by day, so long that they can't let go of an accidental accident with their own lives.

The desk has placed a pot of Indian orchid, and it has been fourteen or five years. Changing the stubble for it every year will grow very energetic. It blooms when it should bloom, it blooms when it shouldn't, and it blossoms all year round. The flower blooms more, so worry about it. Four times are constant, the heavens are jealous, are you going to show all the colors and ingenuity to me, the prodigal son who has not yet entered the stream?

Life does not meet, moving like a participatory businessman. It is most difficult to forget without guessing friends, let alone when people reach middle age. A childhood friend who had been in contact for many years suddenly appeared in front of him, and after a greeting, he was speechless for a while, and he didn't know where to start, so he drank. A few glasses of wine have evoked many memories of childhood. Just scold the mother, but scold the mother vigorously, scold the poverty when you were a child, and scold the bad when you were a child. Enough scolding, it is time to go, just hook up, unconsciously shed tears, real, no scruples.

Late October is the hardest day of each year. The season is approaching winter, the heating has not yet been turned on, and the cold has penetrated every part of the body. The best way is to get into the quilt early and let the husband and wife grind each other's body temperature to comfort each other, but it is a little more considerate than usual. The more you are in a harsh environment, the more you care for each other. Poor and lowly couples, with more understanding and support.

Longzhong was bitterly barren, these were the words of Zuo Zongtang, the governor of Shaanxi and Gansu at the time. Probably seeing the drought in Longzhong, on the way to Xinjiang, the commander of the Huxiang disciples ordered the soldiers to plant willows along the way. The Si people have gone, but Zuo Gongliu has existed for a long time. Now there are still branches that are fortunate to dance with the wind, and I don't know what kind of a strong man carefully planted it before the coming fierce battle, and I don't know if this strong man can embark on the way back. Did the mother, who was leaning against the door, wait for the return of her dusty son?

There are two kinds of people in the world who deserve respect, one is the person who reads a lot, and the other is the person who has experienced a lot. The former kind of person reads through ten thousand volumes and constantly enriches his spiritual connotation in a limited life range; the latter kind of people travel thousands of miles, or strive to make great progress in their careers, or do their best to be sad and happy. The former is idyllic and leisurely, and the latter is dignified and vicissitudes.

Almost all of the teachers in elementary school were social organizations. In the 1990s, at the urging of various parties, they began to gradually become regular teachers, and most of them soon retired. They used their lifelong perseverance to wait for a stable life in old age. At one stage, the story of "Phoenix Qin" was circulated throughout the country, and the honest protagonists actually abounded. They, which have supported the enlightenment and education of generations, are the silent negatives of the nation's progress, the true backbone of the republic. Their stories will live on forever, and their efforts will warm the once-knowledge-starved countryside.

The mother's feelings for the child are emotional, and they want the child to be around them; the father is rational and wants the child to go farther away. These two forces motivate the child to grow, to a higher peak than his father, and to always connect his heart with his family. The mother is the line that pulls the kite and controls the direction of affection; the father is the rising air current in the spring, giving the child the strength to continue to move forward.

When I was young, I was in awe of my father and far more than close. The father's harshness and rudeness are hard to accept. When I reach middle age, I often think of my father's difficulty in raising my younger siblings and children, and I am close to my father from time to time. Many of the intentional and unintentional words my father said, which once felt pedantic, now felt precious.

My mother has been in charge of a large family kitchen for more than fifty years. First, after the death of his grandparents, he took charge of eight underage siblings until they separated one by one, and later took care of their children. One day, a small detail that I inadvertently remembered made me suddenly feel particularly sad: my mother was always busy after eating the first bowl of rice, and after everyone put down the rice bowl, if there was still something left in the pot, she would continue to pick up the rice bowl. She was either the first to put down her job or the last to put it down. People who run a big family always have to watch other people eat before thinking about their stomachs. Her bits and pieces have won the respect of the little brother-in-law and sister-in-law. That year, her mother was bedridden, and the second uncle and the fifth uncle who had come from afar were in tears at her bedside. Uncle Five later said to me many times: It is not easy for your mother to be the mother of two generations.

My father had no hobbies all his life. One reason is a lifetime of difficulties, no spare money to cultivate their leisure feelings; another reason is busy. After the death of his grandparents, eight siblings who had not yet started a family and eight children of his own had exhausted all the energy of his life and had no time to soothe his mood. Father, just like that, all his life, without any hobbies. In old age, when my father smoked a dry cigarette pot, he did not know whether he was rich or regretful when he recalled his life.

Mother treats all people well throughout her life. There was a man in the village, about ten years younger than his father, who used his power to beat up his cowardly grandfather many times during the Cultural Revolution, and his father had a grudge with his father for most of his life, but maintained a friendship with him for almost a lifetime. Later, under the pressure of life, he took his family and mouth and went to Xinjiang to settle down. In the late 1990s, my parents went to Xinjiang to visit my second brother. Having come out of the predicament of life, he drove a carriage for more than two hundred miles, took my parents to his home, and treated them like old people for several days, in order to repay them for abandoning the grievances of their elders and constantly helping themselves. There are many very ordinary people like mothers, who have humble lives, but have a history-like mind. Although no one has erected a monument to them, their generosity, righteousness, and gratitude are enough to shine through the annals of history.

Father's cabinet was always locked tightly with a lock. What's hidden inside the cupboard? When I was young, I often guessed around the cabinet. When it was Time for the New Year, the father would open the cupboard, take out a few apples or candy from it, and give each child one. Loving my father's cabinet is actually for that apple, and my father's cabinet is always connected with delicious food. In the era of extreme material scarcity, a little enjoyment must also choose a good day for the children to share together. Today's children would never have imagined such a scenario.

Family banquets are a major event in the Spring Festival every year. In order to prepare such a family event, the mother had to get up early. During the cold season, my mother would always make the kitchen steamy and let the delicacies flow. Even in difficult years, mothers on New Year's Day should try to present the best delicacies to the whole family as much as possible. At a time when a meal can be the best thing to enjoy of the year, mothers certainly don't shy away from their children's expectations for a year.

The difficulty of dragging the family with mouths has cultivated the father's rough and serious character. Unassuming words about our younger siblings and children are the deepest and longest impressions that our fathers have given us. When the grandson's generation was born, his father's temper also improved a lot. Teasing Sun became a pleasure for his father in his later years. Perhaps due to the lack of warmth to his children, fathers give their grandchildren more love and affection. My eighty-year-old father underwent a life transition from poverty to abundance, and from grumpiness to warmth. It is human nature to be a parent, and the father is exactly like all grandfathers, gentle, kind, and patient.

My father, who had been through many vicissitudes, looked forward to my work when he was sixty years old. In order to comfort my difficult father, I saved and saved 120 yuan a month, and handed over the meager salary saved to my father for six years. Later, when I got married, my father was full of apologies for not being able to help his son who was equally difficult.