On July 4, 2016, by the arrangement of my superiors, I was arranged to a primary school invigilator, accompanied by my son, who came out early and returned late with me every day. His slightly chubby body supports his clever brain and looks very energetic. Although the son is very young, he is very sensible, but sometimes he is also a little naughty.
In the early morning, the sun is mixed with fresh air, and the breeze is blowing in the face, which makes people feel relaxed. On the dogtail grass on campus, the dewdrops of gold and silver are very charming under the illumination of the sun. In the distance, there were occasional birdsongs, crisp and pleasant, as if to tell people that a good day would begin again.
The sun rose higher and higher, getting bigger and bigger, and the fiery red sun shone on his son's young face, adding infinite vitality to his son. My son and I arrived at the proctoring site early, and in fact, it was already busy, and the test takers were like ants on a hot pot, busy looking for their own exam room. This made me see the figure of my youth and madness, but my heart was a little sour. On the playground, the teachers who came to take the invigilation exam had long been there to talk and laugh, and everyone seemed very relaxed and relaxed. Later, I joined them, and my son and another colleague's child ran to play. After a while, the son ran back happily.
I stood in the crowd, not so conspicuous. Strange to say, that day, I collided with a colleague's clothes, and as soon as my son ran to him, he pulled on his colleague's clothes and casually shouted, "Daddy, I'm back, I don't want to play with them." The colleague turned and smiled, not yet speaking. My colleagues watched curiously as my son laughed in unison, and his face suddenly changed, his nose blew impatiently, and he cried. The cry was uncontrollable, and he ran over like an arrow and hugged my leg tightly, holding his head high and looking at me sadly.
He seemed to be saying, I didn't mean to do this, it was very sad to see him, he kept shouting: "Daddy, Daddy..." How I explained it to him was to no avail, and my heart suddenly trembled a little, inexplicably sad. Just like a thousand knives, in the continuous dripping of blood, I suddenly felt that there was less love for my son.
The son kept shouting, without the intention of stopping crying. I hugged him to avoid my colleagues and called his colleagues' children along, and I whispered, "Son, it's all right, Daddy doesn't blame you, everyone will shout wrong." The co-worker's child was smart, and she understood what I meant and immediately continued, "Yeah! Once I was playing at my aunt's house, and I also recognized strangers as my father, you see, we will all make mistakes, don't cry. This white lie seemed to work, and with our constant comfort, the son slowly stopped crying, but he still kept sobbing sadly.
Originally, I thought that my son was still young, and he only knew how to play carefree all day and would not think about anything else. But after this unforgettable event, I completely changed my previous view. In fact, children have their own thoughts.
Since then, I have understood even more that love does not need to be hung on the lips all the time, and it does not need to be written on paper. Rather, it is to be inadvertently expressed, that is true love, such love does not mix with other substances, is the purest.
Wu Changhu, a native of Hezhang, Guizhou, is a member of the Guizhou Writers Association. His works have been published in selected essays, Guizhou Daily, Selected Poems, Guizhou Writers and other newspapers and periodicals.