Shimmering tears Lu Binghua

About ten years ago, I worked as a small class teacher in a private kindergarten.

In the spring, a little boy named Rarity came to the class, and the head of the kindergarten asked me to go to the office to meet with the parents and say that there was something important.

The reason is simple, Rarity's parents have just divorced, and the custody of the child has been given to the father, because the father has been working outside the home for many years, and now he can only be taken over by his grandparents to take care of.

The serious-looking grandmother cursed her ex-daughter-in-law with the most vicious words and the toughest attitude in the world, and declared that whoever dared to allow "others" to approach the child except her own family would immediately transfer to the kindergarten and be fully responsible. Hiding behind grandma, Rarity, uneasily twisting her small hand, almost four years old, probably knew something. Every time the name of the former daughter-in-law appeared in the grandmother's rough outpouring, the child's face would stubbornly turn to the wall and grasp the corner of his clothes.

With Grandma Rarity making a pledge and commitment, I took Rarity to the classroom. To be honest, teachers are very afraid of encountering such a family, mixed with the middle of the dilemma. I looked at him carefully, it was a beautiful little boy, fair skin, crescent moon-like curved eyes, laughing with two cute little dimples, not knowing how the cruel mother would leave such a well-behaved baby. Walking through the garden full of rhododendron icon flower beds, the child took the initiative to hold my hand, soft and a little cold, this little boy who has become a stranger to his mother, I can't help but feel pity.

A month passed quickly, Rarity adapted to the new environment, and the teachers and children liked him. The child is clever and clever, sensible and polite, and can be seen that he was well educated before.

One day at noon, the doorman said that someone was looking for me, and I explained to the other teachers in the class, and I went. Looking for me was a young, handsome woman with fair skin, crescent-like eyes hiding a sea of melancholy. I suddenly understood who this was, turned around and planned to go back, as the child's homeroom teacher, I did not want to get involved in the housework between the parents.

The woman grabbed me and cried uncontrollably, saying that she had run through all the kindergartens in the neighborhood to find here. Please pity her, even if I look at the child from a distance, and promise again and again that I will not be embarrassed. Seriously, in the face of a mother who is tearful and humble to the point of dust, no matter how unbearable she is considered in her marriage, at least her thoughts of her son are unforgettable.

Thinking about it again and again, I took Rarity to the doorman's room, and the moment the child saw his mother, he almost flew over. The mother and son hugged each other tightly and kept kissing each other, and the child wiped the tears that his mother could not dry with his small hands, and he also cried and shouted, "Mom, I miss you, Mom, I want you, Mom, I don't want grandparents...". I couldn't bear to listen any longer, so I gently withdrew and closed the door, leaving a little precious short reunion for the mother and son.

Since then, with my unknowing acquiescence, the woman would sneak a look at Rarity once a week during her lunch break, and mother and son would snuggle together, two pairs of identical curved eyes flowing with happy starlight.

Soon, the director of the kindergarten discovered this, was furious with me, and ordered me to understand immediately, otherwise he would be severely punished.

So when the woman came to visit again, I struggled to say that it would be the last time. The woman bowed her head and said nothing, and Rarity knew what was going to happen from our conversation, but instead urged her mother to leave quickly. Before parting, the woman took her son into her arms and finally hugged her, and Rarity finally cried, pointed to her chest and said, "Mom, you don't want to come to see me anymore, I hurt a lot here."

The woman, as if she had been electrocuted, stepped back and handed the child to me, said nothing, bent down and bowed deeply to me with tears in her eyes, staggered and decided to walk out of the kindergarten.

At this time, the June sun is shining, the breeze is not dry, and the rows of hibiscus trees used as fences at the gate are in full bloom. I watched this heartbroken woman disappear into the crowd little by little, her thin shoulder blades shaking violently, and it should have been a lifetime of tears flowing this afternoon. Even if she can reunite with her grown-up son in the future, the days that belong only to them will never go back.

Since then, Rarity's mother has not appeared, and over time, Rarity seems to have forgotten her. The next year, when she heard that Rarity's father had organized a new family and that the new mother came to the kindergarten to pick up and drop off the children, Rarity was also very happy and kept showing off her mother to the children.

Finally, it seems that only I remember the woman who cried silently in the June sun, may she be safe, may she be treated tenderly for the rest of her years.

May you be treated tenderly for the rest of your life