My tailor mother

Today the weather is particularly hot, only to know that there is a broken cry on the branches, and the sun is burning the earth, like a fire, and it is about to melt away like chocolate. Hot also want to go home, the weekend used to go back to see the old parents.

As soon as she entered the house, my mother sat on the bed wearing reading glasses, embroidered small flower shoes, and in the basket were half-made uppers, as well as scissors, thimbles, awls, colorful flower threads, and fabrics, which were the necessary tools for mothers to make shoes, some of which had been used for decades, and even some of them were left by grandma. She said that her aunt's nephew was about to give birth, and she made two pairs to give to the child. The white sole is stitched and stitched, the grass-green upper is lined with small pink flowers, and two small yellow butterflies are dropped on it; the other pair of shoes is embroidered with a small tiger, eyebrows, eyes, mouth, beard... All of this is done with colored threads and hand-embroidered, with two sparkling beads set in the eyes of the little tiger. Each pair of small and delicate, vivid, I can't help but reach out and touch it, cute, my mother's hand has tenosynovitis, I said you work slowly.

I still remember that winter, when I was in the first grade, I took a small kerosene lamp to study at night, and when I came home from class, the lights were still on in the house, and I heard the clicking of the sewing machine from outside the yard. Entering the house, the mother wore a blue cloth apron, a leather ruler hanging around her neck, the action of measuring and cutting clothes was sharp, drawing on the cloth with powder, and then using scissors to cut along the drawn line, not more, not less, not left or right, precise techniques. The aunt was pedaling an old-fashioned Shanghai sewing machine next to her at the lock, and the sister was scalding her clothes, and a wet towel was placed on the side of the shop, which was "slippery" and sounded, and white smoke rose from the case. The prepared clothes are folded high, neatly placed on the edge of the kang, and typed well. In those days, few people in the village bought ready-made clothes, and every year when they entered the Waxing Moon, the sound of sewing machines was almost all night long, the lights were almost all night long, there was no heating in the room, only a coal stove, and the family was busy.

I still remember that year, my daughter was still young, my mother came to the county town to help me take care of it, my colleague brought a cheongsam, let my mother make a few buckles, don't look at the small buckle, the energy that needs to be spent is really a lot, from the plate to the seam, there is no half a day of kung fu can not be done. First the cloth strips were carefully folded up, and then stitched and threaded, and slowly coiled out one bow after another, and the mother's spiritual ingenuity was vividly reflected in the small buckle. The buckle plays a finishing touch on the colleague's cheongsam, like a butterfly flying in the summer field, vivid. Whenever I see my colleague wearing this elegant cheongsam, I am reminded of my mother making a buckle.

My mother is a tailor, and she is an excellent tailor, not only can use her dexterous hands to cut and sew, make beautiful and fit clothes, but also use her own actions to teach me the qualities of life such as seriousness, diligence, perseverance, and keeping promises, and I can also use my example and words to teach me to learn the tailoring and sewing of life in my ears. My mother was getting older and her hands were getting rougher, but her strong and resilient state of mind had not changed. May the mother of the world not grow old, and Fanghua will always stay.

Shenzhou Municipal Bureau of Agriculture and Rural Affairs Zhang Liwei