Mom, a warm name, is the warmest title in the hearts of children all over the world.
She is like a river, coming from afar and growing with us. When we want to trace back to the source, you will find that mother is our initial warm starting point; When we encounter setbacks, you will find that our mother's indomitable strength, which is not afraid of difficulties and obstacles, can give us countless touches and encouragement; And when we are happy, you will know that mother's happiness has turned into a gentle Xiu Xiu of green mountains and green waters, and every drop of water is like her intimate love, which has lifted our voyage.
I have written about some people, but it seems that I have written too little to my mother. On the occasion of another mother's arrival, draw a mother's picture in my heart with my humble pen. I also hope that all children in the world will treat every day as Mother's Day, love her, respect her, coax her, spoil her, and treat the best woman in the world with heart as they cared about us before.
A street, that thin figure.
Before my pond and soil were not expropriated, my mother's footprints were all over the village. She measured the spring and autumn with sweat and wrote a poem of life with hard work. Her thin shoulders are always a burden. Water carriers, dung carriers, vegetable sellers and potato diggers have left her figure carrying loads everywhere in the wind, rain, mountains and ponds.
In order to sell vegetables, my mother always gets up before dawn. When we wake up, a load of vegetables has been washed and tied, and we are leaving. In winter, the biting water makes mother's hands as red as carrots. Her hands, after years of hard work, are always thin and rough. Summer, scorching sun, mother's sweat spilled all the way, thirsty, drink some water to spray wash vegetables; Hungry, even the money to buy a few steamed buns is reluctant, sometimes it rains halfway, and often gets soaked. The streets and alleys of Lengshuijiang have been inquired by her footsteps. Many times, she dragged her tired body back, and there was a housework waiting for her at home. The cookstoves are deserted, dirty clothes pile up into hills, the pigs in the pigsty are screaming with hunger, and there may be one or two chickens and ducks who can't find the shadow ... How many late nights, I was confused and heard the voice of my mother mowing the grass, in the dark night, lonely and rhythmically ringing. How many mornings, when the red sun rose, I called my mother everywhere, but I couldn't find her.
I don't have any photos of my mother selling vegetables, but I have used my mother's money to sell vegetables. I still remember the scene when she bought me books and paid with her chapped hands ... My mother said, if you want to make a determined effort, you must be admitted, and don't stay in the countryside to eat curved sweet potatoes like me.
Holding the money that my mother bought with sweat piece by piece, my heart is sour, because I know that behind these money, not only is she tired like a man all the year round, but also the bitter memories that are pressed in my heart.
One winter day, my mother came home with vegetables, covered with snowflakes. I saw that her face was ugly and she was not in such a hurry to do things as in the past. Only after asking did I know that when my mother was selling vegetables, the scale was taken away by the urban management team because the burden was too heavy to carry. Mother lost her mind and her thin face was full of unprecedented embarrassment. The cold wind outside the window cut her heart like a knife. I swallowed my grievances and anger into my heart, but I couldn't find a better word to warm her. After a long time, my mother stopped selling vegetables. Later, she came back with a new scale and shouldered the burden of vegetables, leaving me a thin figure wearing an old straw hat. I know that a strong mother often doesn't care about hard work, but the scale grabbing incident has deeply hurt her self-esteem. It's just that she is strong, and with a wave of her sleeve, she swallows her tears in her heart. In order to make a living, she still has to hold her head high and work hard. ...
Second, on the way to raising children, embrace hard.
Raising children is an ordinary and great career for a mother. Women are weak, but when they become mothers, no matter how weak they are, they will become strong.
1992, my brother was born. This was originally a great news for my family. However, my father was punished for unplanned birth, and only received more than 90 yuan a month for living expenses. The family even had problems eating, so he had to leave his hometown and go out to work. To make matters worse, my mother was old when she was pregnant, and she was hiding in hiding during pregnancy and was undernourished. My younger brother became a "medicine jar" when he was born.
In order to save money, his mother took him to a Chinese medicine hospital as usual. In the early morning of the holiday, my mother will ask me for help. The big cloth bag contains excrement and urine tablets, milk jugs, water bottles, clothes and dry food. I followed closely with my bag, and my mother dragged her to the Chinese medicine hospital with my brother in her arms. After several days of vomiting and diarrhea, my brother was weak, his head hung feebly on his mother's shoulder, and he didn't even have the strength to open his eyes. It was a hot summer and the sun shone early in the morning. My mother is afraid of sunbathing her brother. She held an umbrella in one hand and hugged him tightly in the other. She was tired, changed her hands, got hot, wiped her sweat, walked for a while, rested her shoulders, and in the dust flying in the path, I saw her back as anxious as the sun.
Running away, my mother's back was soaked with sweat and rushed to the clinic. Sweat dripped down her cheeks into a river. The doctor who treated my brother, surnamed Zhang, used to be the vice president of Chinese medicine hospital, and retired to work in pediatrics. Zhang Zhiyuan is very friendly to others. Seeing his mother's tired and anxious appearance, he asked her to rest first. He asked the intern to pour water. While holding her younger brother, the mother held out her sore hand and took the cup to drink, and her tears brushed down regardless.
This is part of my essay "The ever-burning lamp of health". I took a few pictures of my mother's difficult parenting and spliced them into a picture of maternal love. Unexpectedly, the essay won the prize, which was the first prize. After knowing the news, I went home at the first time, told my mother the good news and bought her clothes with the bonus. Mother can't read the words in the newspaper clearly. In her forties, her eyes are old and her smile floats warmly on her face. I know that at this moment, my mother is happy, although this daughter only expresses her gratitude in such a meager way. For clothes, my mother resolutely declined: "Your family also needs money, so don't buy it for me. There are clothes at home. If it is best to return it, you can give it to your mother-in-law. "
Looking at my mother's white hair and her thin figure over and over again, I really want to go over and give her a strong hug. Just like before, just like she hugged my brother and me and gave her a steady warmth with a hug. However, I didn't. Like most children in the world, I am not used to expressing my inner love in a relatively warm way.
It also reminds me of the only time I held my mother: it was an early morning in Chun Xue, and the night before, my dear grandmother passed away. When they got a call and braved the heavy snow to get to the mourning hall, their mother and menstruation had already cried into tears. One by one, they wailed: "My mother, my mother, ate up all the lost mothers ..." The cry of tears hovered over the snow, and the village became solemn and drooping. I silently shed tears and hugged my mother. Her shoulders trembled in my arms, and the cold and rough knuckles of her hands stung me like children. The mother who lost her mother became her grandmother's mother, but at this moment, she cried like a child, miserable and lonely. That time, I saw my mother's most vulnerable side, and she has always been a very strong mother in front of her children. ...
By the kitchen fire, the familiar smell.
Some time ago, I read an article by Professor You Yu Ming from Loudi College of Humanities and Science. Write that he and his wife are usually at home, grab something to eat and have a simple stomach, but after his daughter came back, his wife changed a lot and often stayed in the kitchen. As long as it is the daughter's request, it will be done without discount, brains and effort. His wife has been busy cooking eggs in the kitchen all morning, jiaozi. He said, "Kitchen time." This is a period of concentration for mothers and children.
After reading it, I feel the same way: it turns out that parents in the world, on the whole, love their children in the same way.
Just like every time I go home, I can always see my mother's back in the kitchen, busy by the fire. Fresh vegetables in all seasons were planted by my mother with a hoe; Knowing that her son loves to eat eggs, my mother scrimps and saves herself. When we get home, she gives them to the children in various ways, sometimes steaming, sometimes frying, or boiling, or spreading them into egg rolls. ...
Since the land at home was expropriated, when my mother's legs, feet and back became more and more unable to carry the burden because of rheumatism, her main battlefield shifted from the field to the stove. The dishes that can't be eaten at home will be carefully made into various jars by my mother. Under the wall of the miscellaneous room, the jars are lined up, and the lineup is quite spectacular. There are rice noodle eggplant, rice noodle pepper, rice noodle skin, pickles, bean curd, white pepper, lobster sauce, moldy tofu and so on. She even made rice noodle jar fish. These salty and delicious jar dishes have enriched our recipes and won a good reputation for our mother. A guest who came back from a long distance to visit relatives wanted nothing when she returned to the city, but specially asked her mother to buy her some jar dishes. She said she bought everything in big cities, but it was hard to find such authentic hometown dishes. ...
Among the dishes cooked by my mother, my favorite is fried meat with green peppers. Every year when the green peppers are only tied, my mother will pick them with joy and go to the butcher's shop to chop a catty and bring back the meat. Meat is the kind suitable for cooking. It should be fat and thin with a little skin, holding it in your hand and shining softly. Mom is good at cutting, cutting quickly and thin, and it tastes good. First, she squeezed the fat slices mixed with a little lean meat out of the oil, and then she fried the lean meat with a bang. In the meantime, green pepper and garlic slices flew around, and in a short time, the room was full of meat. I can't get tired of this dish. Fresh and tender sliced meat, fragrant and chewy skin oil residue and sunny pepper are really appetizing. Every time, I will eat full head big sweat, even refused to let go of the soup at the bottom of the bowl. ...
There are thousands of delicious foods in the world, all of which are fried by mom. They are the most real and unforgettable. There are thousands of roads in Qian Qian in the world, and the way home is the warmest and most practical. I didn't know what happiness is until I tasted the dishes cooked by my mother.
Between the four Buddhist temples, that simple pursuit.
Mother studied Buddhism.
I later learned that she was influenced by her sister and became attached to the Buddha. My sister gave her many books and CDs on Buddhism and preached the essence of Buddhism to her. Mom liked it as soon as she heard it.
When I was young, it was said that my mother was good at reading. She has always been among the best in her class and won the appreciation of teachers. However, because her family was too poor, she finally dropped out of school. After marriage, children were born one after another. My father is away all the year round for his career, and my mother has to give up her pursuit and dream for this family. She sweated in front of the "earth repairman" and the "nanny" who didn't want money, and her inner boiling and suffering were certain. I have heard her dream several times, saying that she dreamed that she had received the admission notice and was sitting in the classroom with her classmates to do the topic. Such a scene, such a picture, such a feeling of deep depression and long-term disappointment are exactly the same as mine! The unfulfilled pursuit, the mother is getting farther and farther away from them, but she never forgets it. Later, I went to a technical secondary school, and my mother still wanted to fulfill my college dream. She wants to support me to continue to take the college entrance examination. However, how can I support myself only by that dish? She told her father many times, but he felt that "letting a hundred flowers blossom" was better than "outshining others", because judging from the financial strength of the family at that time, if I was sent to college, it would be difficult for my sisters below to go to school. Because of this "abortion" dream, my mother was very worried at one time. I know my mother, and I can only be grateful. Because her dream didn't come true, she wanted her children to have everything going smoothly, so no matter how bitter and tired she was, she would bear it silently like a cow. How much she wants us to continue or realize her dream. I have seen a strong mother, and there are many scenes of tears. Sometimes it's because of being bullied by neighbors, sometimes it's because the entangled parents in the extended family are short-lived, and sometimes they quarrel with their fathers. Whenever emotions erupt, I always secretly think of my mother's pursuit in those years: "If I pass the exam, I won't be so angry in the countryside."
Perhaps, injuries and pains, depression and grievances, hardships and hopes accumulated in various aspects and years have accumulated in the hearts of mothers, and only after encountering Buddhism have they sparked and lit up their hearts. Since I became attached to Buddha, I found that her brow stretched much more. Sometimes when we get home, she will tell me about her experience of learning Buddhism, telling stories, enlightenment and sometimes vigilance, which my mother likes to tell. She said, "If I had contacted earlier, I don't know how much I would have suffered before."
I am glad that my mother has a firm belief in her later years. I know that she regards studying Buddhism as a lamp, which not only illuminates the gray and darkness in the past years, but also cleans up and unties the troubled old things, so that the knot that once troubled her slowly spreads out; At the same time, I am also supporting a pillar of light for the future, so that I can live more transparently and calmly. Compared with my father who advocates making contributions, I feel that my mother is more calm inside. She changed her past hot temper and gradually became light. My mother's views on life, illness, death, karma, fame and fortune, and how to face adversity in life, from time to time exude the flavor of philosophy and Zen, which surprised me secretly. ...
In stark contrast to the diligence of learning Buddhism, my mother's own life is as simple as an ascetic: she has been a vegetarian for many years, and the Chinese New Year holiday is no exception; Wearing dozens of clothes, she picked up the shoes and clothes that our sisters didn't want. As soon as I have time, I do "homework", recite scriptures and watch movies; As long as she has money, she is not stingy, whether it is to help people who are sick and have disasters, or to donate to make meritorious deeds. I feel that my mother's heart is becoming more and more transparent, softer and more compassionate. ...
I'm really happy for my mother. People are tired all their lives. What is this for? What is the most worth pursuing in this world? How to live in the future is the way that best suits your inner voice? Mother's practice, the pursuit of broad vision, small to arrange the details of life. Since she came into contact with Buddhism, she has become more and more clever. As long as you can think of a lot of reasons, you can let go of what you have been unable to let go for years, and you will feel relaxed and happy in your heart. This is the best health care. Looking at her pious figure in front of the Buddhist temple and the temple, I can only pray gently: May the years be quiet, and I can treat this hard-working woman with tenderness, light, gentleness and compassion. ...