Then, we might as well record these people and things and write a narrative. In this way, even if you forget something in the future, you can pick up the past and reproduce your old friends.
So far, Bian Xiao has compiled 10 narrative prose for reference only.
The first article: "Cane Chair in the Sun"
"Cheep, cheep, cheep", a familiar voice floated into the eardrum, and I knew that Grandpa must be lying on the cane chair again enjoying those flowers.
Grandpa in his early eighties is thin, but his back is straight. My hair has turned gray, and the wrinkles like old vines on the mountain are all over my cheeks. My grandfather often sighs: "Time doesn't leave anyone!"
I've always been a little afraid of grandpa. I remember when I was very young, I broke his flowers. My grandfather flew into a rage and even hit me with a broom in front of my father. Later, my grandfather mentioned it. At that time, he was also sitting on a cane chair, squinting his eyes, and said softly, "These flowers are sentimental. They've been following me for years. Now water them as soon as you have time, turn over the soil and see if they bloom, and you will be in a good mood. " Grandpa seems to be talking to himself, but his calm tone and serene face in the sun really made me feel guilty for a while!
Grandpa is not very talkative. In his spare time, besides playing with those flowers, he puts on reading glasses and looks through those worn-out words. When I was a child, there were words, allusions and characters I didn't know. As long as I tell grandpa, he will put on presbyopia, open the ocean of heavy words and give me a satisfactory answer. At that time, in my eyes, grandpa seemed to be a thick resignation letter, knowing everything.
Of course, what makes me particularly awe of my grandfather is his integrity. Grandpa used to be the chief of the finance department, which is an enviable position, but he has always been clean, just doing his job well. His stupidity has become a private joke of his colleagues, and even his grandmother and aunts complain about his honesty. But my grandfather is very calm. "People don't do bad things and are not afraid of ghosts knocking at the door in the middle of the night. What do you mean, selfless and generous! Just like me. " Grandpa said, patting his chest heavily.
I grow up day by day, but my grandfather grows old day by day. But my fear of grandpa still exists. I think this is nothing more than being moved by his inner majesty and being infected by righteousness! However, in any case, after all, he is the kind old man sitting on the cane chair and his grandfather who loves me.
The afternoon sun gently sprinkled on the rattan chair, and the flowers swayed in the air. I saw a satisfied smile on grandpa's face. This photo is frozen in my memory.
The second article: "Love never humble"
I have always been troubled by some problems in my life, such as the value of life, the true feelings in the world and so on. The space of soul is full of wall-like indifference isolated from buildings, which makes my heart enriched by this era dry up like daffodils in the desert.
One afternoon, an unknown American song was playing on campus. I was standing in the corner of a building chatting with some classmates. On the table in front of us, there is a cardboard box to raise money for children in the disaster area. In order to attract the attention of passers-by, we posted a set of enlarged black and white photos on a long red cloth. The children in the photo are sitting in the classroom set up with tents, looking at the front with innocent and eager eyes.
It's not far from us-there are several overloaded trash cans by the road in front of the west third dining hall of the school. Every time I cover my nose with a lunch box, I always see an old man tossing something intently with a shovel or hand. Over time, with strong disdain, I became familiar with this poor old man with a white beard and hair.
I don't care about the arrival of this old rubbish. When he stooped and labored past me with a dirty nylon bag on his back, he suddenly stopped and stood in front of the red cloth, squinting at the group of photos carefully, and it took a long time to move from one to another. I couldn't help laughing. Weizi pulled me: "Be careful, don't let him take the donated clothes away as garbage!" " "
I smiled and looked down to clean up those donations, big or small, new or old. Suddenly I felt something shaking in front of me, and I looked up in surprise. I don't know when the old man came up to me. A hand as black as an old pine bark shook it and handed me ten dollars.
I was so surprised that I didn't know what to do. By the time I came to my senses, he had put the money on the table, waved his hand and left with his head held high, as if he had completed a great mission.
I still stood there, watching his hunched back, and an inexplicable respect slowly flowed out of my heart. This life, which was once small and humble in my eyes, deeply shocked me with its simple strength.
In an era of thin true feelings, this old man, who may be forgotten by people because of poverty, has done a little bit of responsibility that many people coldly think is obligatory with his simple love blood all his life.
All kinds of propositions in my heart suddenly have answers-when we only know that love is being lost with gorgeous words, how many really precious things are thrown away by ourselves disdainfully. Did the old man bend down and pick up only the rubbish we threw away?
Chapter 3: "Touzao Jujube Garden"
When I got home, my pants split because of the thread. My mother said, "Come on, I'll get you a car."
I walked into the room with my mother. She lifted the red flannel on the small table, and a tailor's car suddenly appeared in front of me. This scene shocked me. Isn't this the tailor's car more than 30 years ago? Why are you still using it? Does it look new?
"mom? Is this the old tailor's car? "
Mom said, "Of course it's old."
My mother skillfully sat in front of the sewing machine, turned her trouser legs over and began to sew my cracked trousers with all her heart. I looked at my mother's attentive expression and couldn't help rubbing beautiful wood texture on the sewing machine. The pictures suddenly overlap in time and space, returning to childhood.
At that time, this sewing machine was placed at the side door of the east wing of my hometown. Outside the door is a large jujube garden planted by my father. My mother will sit in front of the sewing machine and watch us play in the orchard after she is busy with pig raising, ploughing, drying grain and washing clothes.
Mother, who is good at needlework, actually has no material to make clothes. What she does is to turn flour bags and fertilizer bags into simple clothes, or help us children who are "like cattle" to mend torn shirts and trousers, make clothes that are too big smaller and enlarge clothes that are too small.
It is very important for mother to do the work of clothes, so that although we live in poverty, we will not go to school dressed in rags.
When we don't take clothes, we will rush to do our homework on the sewing machine. That's because there are too few desks and too many children. If you can't catch the sewing machine child, you have to take a piece of wood to pad your knees and sit on the threshold to write.
On one occasion, my brother and I accidentally fell down while grasping the sewing machine, and hit the iron foot of the sewing machine, leaving a scar of more than 20 centimeters behind our ears, which is still clearly visible.
I like to climb the jujube tree and look back at my mother sitting at the door of the wing, sewing clothes and eating crisp and sweet dates. At that time, my mother was in her prime and had a delicate and determined beauty. Because of my mother's strength in life, I often feel that although life is poor and simple, I am fearless.
If it is Sunday, we will pick dates early, because the dates just ripe in the morning are the most fragrant, and they will be eaten up by our brothers soon.
Mom never has a holiday, but she doesn't have to prepare a lunch on weekdays. She always sits in front of the sewing machine early to sew clothes.
Sitting on a jujube tree, the sun just came out of the east, and the jujube garden became warm in the cold winter. Looking along the light of the sun, I just saw my mother's gentle side face, which was very impressionist in color, but the lines were like cubist reliefs. At this time, I will be deeply moved and want to dedicate the most delicious dates I just picked to my mother.
I jumped down from the jujube tree and took the best jujube in my pocket to my mother. She would stop what she was doing, touch my head and say, "Good boy." Then I opened the drawer on the right side of the sewing machine and put the dates in. I caught a glimpse that the drawer was full of dates. It turns out that my brother has chosen dates for his mother.
This makes me always pick dates on Sunday in winter, hoping to be the first to give them to my mother.
Sometimes I feel that I can sit on the jujube tree and look at my mother's clothes, and there will be endless happiness in my life.
"The car is ready, you can wear it." My mother's voice pulled me back from my memory, and my mother couldn't help laughing: "Adults have grown up and are stupid all day."
I looked at my mother's still gentle side face, but her hair was already gray. Just now, when I was away, more than 30 years passed quickly.
Article 4: "I fall asleep with warmth"
Last night, I fell asleep in the warmth.
When you mention "warmth", you will think of a color-yellow. Yellow gives people a warm feeling visually and is deeply rooted in people's hearts.
I remember the autumn when I was a child, the golden color all over the mountains and plains, like a hot little sun, made people can't help but get close and draw warmth.
Since when, I can no longer feel the tenderness of autumn and the ubiquitous little sun. There seem to be only two seasons in a year: summer and winter. The hot summer was covered with snow in the blink of an eye. The leaves fell in a hurry. Sometimes I can't even find any traces of autumn.
It was not until this time last year that I found such a beautiful woman who looks unusually warm now in a different environment.
Three meals a day plus running exercises, physical education class, evening self-study, I will pass by that intersection, that window. Outside the window, it is a tree I don't know. In summer, here in full of green. Autumn has come, when other leaves can't stand the cold and fall one after another, only its leaves are still hanging on the branches. Just a little bit, a little bit from green to yellow. Color this gray and black world.
It's getting colder and colder. Every time I pass that window, I can't help but see if the yellow-green doped leaves on that branch are still swaying and have turned golden. I am looking forward to seeing a whole tree shining with golden light. That kind of warmth should be the most natural, self-evident and warm. But I'm afraid it will warm up and reset overnight. Often this is the most chilling. There are mixed feelings.
There will always be such ups and downs when you pass that tree every day. First, I am worried that it will not be able to resist the cold wind at night and leave me with dead branches and rotten leaves. Then there was a surprise, and the whole golden light still warmed my heart and made me happy. The next day, the cycle repeats. It is sad to see a few ripe leaves falling occasionally.
So, he picked the best time and the leaves were completely ripe. Picking the most beautiful angle helped me leave the warmest warmth when I grew up. My eyes are dull.
Last night, I held it and fell asleep warmly.
This is a gift from nature-the warmest. (Short Literature Network www.duanwenxue.com)
Chapter 5: Green Leaf Love
When Grandpa began to taste the aged Longjing brewed four times, undertaker had gradually dispersed. My mother held my hand tightly and bid farewell to this land where I was born and raised. I smiled slightly. It turns out that there is no eternal hometown, and we are always passers-by.
After dealing with grandma's funeral, grandpa stopped clinging to the land where countless memories were left, and obediently followed us to the city. However, walking on the cobblestone path, I saw my grandfather's back countless times. That kind of deep attachment and unspeakable helplessness finally turned into a muddy tear and slowly flowed back to my heart.
Goodbye, I heard these two words.
Grandpa in the city still gets up early every day. This is somewhat different in a city accustomed to nightlife and disdaining the morning sunshine. However, grandpa doesn't care about those strange eyes, and still wears old blue overalls that are washed white every day and shuttles through the community. He cultivated a flower field in the wasteland in front of the building, sowed all kinds of strange seeds, and waited every day with a serious face, as if he were completing a sacred mission.
Only I know grandpa's loneliness. Because I also have such loneliness. I miss the old house in my hometown. Every morning, the euphemistic sound of warblers, the mournful moan of wooden stairs, the tiny sunshine scattered through the green bamboo forest, and the unforgettable earthy breath with a faint fragrance.
I can't find such a simple and pure smiling face in this piece of reinforced concrete. Every time I see grandpa waving his hand and putting it helplessly under the cold brush, I always have an impulse to cry.
At that time, my grandfather was a green leaf and full of energy. He can temporarily leave his roots and wander in the distance, looking for his own scenery. Now, however, this green leaf has quietly withered, and he needs to go back and stay in his hometown forever.
It was grandpa's eightieth birthday, so my relatives and friends got together. I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't find grandpa. I got up quietly and walked out of the banquet hall. I saw my grandfather wandering in the corner window. I went over to shake hands with grandpa. Grandpa moved his lips and said, "I want to go home." Like a sheltered child looking for a home.
"Well, let's go home together." I saw my own shadow in my grandfather. Everyone is a green leaf. No matter how far it floats, it has been deeply branded by that land. Yes, this is the helpless and sweet fate of every green leaf.
Then, let's work hard with our feelings for the roots, and then go home hand in hand before sunset.
Chapter VI: Old House
This old house is located in the eastern suburb of the county seat. Because of the rugged terrain and sparsely populated, it is known as "Dongyu Island is vast and sparsely populated". At the end of 1990s, with the process of rural urbanization, there were fewer houses in the village, and even if there were, they all turned out new bungalows. Only the old house is still there. For more than 30 years, xu teacher has stayed here and never left.
In 1980s, xu teacher, a senior high school student, was one of the few "intellectuals" in the town. 1986, xu teacher, who has been a substitute teacher in the village for many years, is faced with a dilemma-either be promoted to work in the city or stay in the old house, even though his family doesn't support him!
The "old house" is located on the border of Hubei and Jiangxi, with the Shogun Mountain in the south and the upper reaches of Fuhe River in the north. It is an old revolutionary base area. As early as during the revolutionary civil war, the Eighth Route Army, the Kuomintang and Japan all stationed troops here. Xu teacher has lived here for generations, even though everyone in the village has the idea of going out.
In the late 1920s, due to the salary problem, a large number of teachers were lost in the reservoir area every year. Not everyone can stand such poverty, but Lao Xu persists. He said that although the "old house" is surrounded by water on three sides and backed by mountains on one side, its geographical location is remote and its natural resources are poor, but its ancestors all grew up here, not to mention 100 children.
Later, due to the burden of three children at home, Xu left the old house for more than a year. However, in May of 20 10, the "old house" was infected with H 1N 1 influenza virus, and the volunteers in the village dispersed in a hubbub. Teacher Xu soon returned to the old house. The old house is still there, a little tired.
In June, 2065438+0/kloc-0, I contacted President Xu to learn more about the "old house" and reported my written materials in order to cooperate with the large-scale public welfare activity "Dreams for Ten Thousand Left-behind Children" jointly organized by Hubei Women's Federation, Provincial Women and Children Development Foundation, Jinbao and sina hubei. Among the two short calls, the most memorable one was his "thank you, thank you very much" and so on. Speaking of this, I feel a little ashamed, as if all the burdens of the "old house" were completely on him, and the other people who shoulder the heavy responsibility are kindness and him. Imagine how the old house will collapse with him one day. But don't worry, the old house has been standing.
At the beginning of March, my sister called and said that she was asking for support. I wonder how her father gave her enough money so quickly and how she lost money. After repeated inquiries, I realized that her friend's father was seriously ill and in urgent need. Her friend's father was SEO. I trembled slightly. I just thought about the old house and asked her to find some public welfare organizations, government agencies and so on. After all, we can't finish it alone. Later, because of a series of work and study tasks, xu teacher gradually faded away, and I don't know if the old house is still there.
I didn't know that xu teacher had left until last week when I spoke to my sister again. Shocked, I asked why. My sister said, "His family is poor, not to mention spending tens of thousands of dollars a day on medical expenses in tongji hospital." "What about his family?" I asked. "There are three children at home, the younger is in college and the older is just married. The original family was reorganized. So after transferring to the regional hospital, he finally chose to give up the treatment of his children. "
After the phone call, I felt bad for a long time. Looking up at the flowery April day, I only felt a chill, and my heart was like turning over a five-flavored bottle. Only blame the original, never care.
The old house village with fresh air, beautiful scenery and beautiful natural scenery will always be here, and the old house with small green tile roof, stilt eaves and brick wings still stands. Only he, Mr. Xu, like a wisp of smoke from the back hill, drifted off the beam of the roof and soon disappeared into the blue sky and blue sea.
Chapter 7: Crying Sky
/kloc-The sky of 0/4 years old is colored.
Although we are 14 years old, we have many troubles. But our 1 year-old sky is still colored.
Adults often say that puppy love is most likely to appear at 14 years old! That's true, but not all activities with the opposite sex are puppy love. I have experienced the pain of being misunderstood by my parents and insulted by my classmates, but I have never regretted making friends with him.
He is a lovely boy. He confessed to me, but I offered to be friends with him. He hesitated, but finally agreed happily. From then on, we became confidants who talked about everything, but for this reason, things about him and me spread in the class, but he just smiled every day, because I said that every day is a sad day, every day is a happy day, just be happy. He looked at me with a smile, which made me not sad. For the next few months, he would call every night, and sometimes I would take the initiative to call back.
I feel so sweet and happy. Once I told him that I like the moon, and he said that he likes meteors, because then he can make a wish and make a wish to make us happy forever. We also casually talked about the next life, and we suspected that if we were destined to be friends in the next life. Still such a good friend. But it didn't last long. I can't stand the insults of my classmates. That night, I called him and told him: Dear friends.
He cried when I said it. From his sobs, I understood that he cared about me. But I've made up my mind, and I won't break my word. He just cried and didn't talk. I tried to persuade him, but it was useless. I cried too. I hung up the phone in disappointment and turned off my cell phone. He hasn't called since. I didn't call back. Because I know: there is no friendship between us. I'm sure he knows.
Today, I am not the ignorant girl at that time. Feeling 14 of the sky is colored. He is gray in my heart. I don't know if it is the first love, but I think: no, it is not the first love. But a friendship worth remembering! I also believe that this sweet memory will remain in his memory.
Not for eternity, just for possession. ...
Chapter 8: One heart and one mind all one's life
Do you remember the green slate that year? The snickering of raindrops beats the gentleness of rainy nights. The clock goes from 0 to 12 in one cycle. 12 years later, the sweetest thing for me was the lump on the corner of town. In tenacious youth, I often snigger at your disdain. You are always lukewarm and indifferent to me, but I don't care about your silence and indifference.
At the age of thirteen, I am always teasing your limits, and I like your trance after cycling best. A few years later, the blue bike disappeared. I hold your hand and walk in the campus where we study together. I look at you and tell you, husband, the happiest thing in the world is that you take a good look at one thing, stick to one thing, and then get a result, which is still so beautiful.
(1) I am the water out of the flower, running water brings my wife into the world of mortals.
Just a casual stay, my world, from now on there will be your existence, you are not the kind of person who is good at expressing his feelings, let alone the kind of person who will treat feelings casually. When I was thirteen years old, I said I liked you, and you only thought I was a joke when I was young. At the age of sixteen, you began to understand and like you when you entered the university. You said that holding my hand is a lifetime, even if I let go, you won't let go. Love has always been a matter of two people, but at the beginning, there must be a persistent one. I chose you and recognized you, so I am willing to stick to it. I believe in the truth of being faithful to my wife, and I understand the significance of learning to cherish when I get it.
(2) More troubles and more twists and turns.
In 2002, we were the best classmates and studied in the same class. In 2005, we were close friends and separated, one in Harbin and the other in Wuhu. In 2009, we were the most supportive colleagues, working together for the same enterprise in Ningbo; 20 1 1 year, we are the closest lovers. I go to Tianjin and you go back to Wuhu. 20 13 years, we are the sweetest couple, back to the starting point of acquaintance. Time is holding us back, and distance is pulling our distance, but even so, because of persistence and trust, we face each other together and look back on those separated memories, which is still so beautiful.
(3) Childhood is a love affair, and two children are the most affectionate.
I always tell you that you are better to me than the whole world. I'm used to it. When I have a problem, I play the coquetry with you for the first time. I have long been used to it, and I will say no when I encounter a situation. I will never grow up because of your kindness. It's very thoughtful of you to take good care of me. Looking at you every day, 12 years have passed, but I don't feel the slightest change because of your existence. You will still regard me as a classmate studying with Class 3 in science, and you will still regard me as a little girl who cheats with you every day. You spoil me, so that the whole world can't stand my bad temper, but you will always be you. You said that I never need to be better, as long as I am happy, I can do anything. ...
(4) 3,000 weak waters are all floating clouds, as long as you are single-minded in this life.
In this world, there is a kind of love, needless to say, I love you, but you know that his world is only you; There is a promise, not to say a lifetime, but you know that this life is destined to be with him; There is a tacit understanding that you don't need time to practice, but you seem to have rehearsed it many times. That tacit understanding makes people jealous. Love, seemingly dull, is sweet inside. Commitment, trance is very shallow, but enough peace of mind, tacit understanding, the original world really exists. I don't know what the world will be like in seventy years. But I know that the world is with you by my side.
Chapter 9: Father in the Sun
Happiness is a stone that strikes a single spark; Happiness is fire, lighting the extinguished lamp; Happiness is a lamp that illuminates the way forward; Happiness is the road to a warm harbor. ...
Listening to the endless noise and abuse from the back room, I stood at the door and knew that the old couple were fighting for the TV. I saw grandpa scrambling to watch that shocking war movie, and he protected the remote control with his hands. This is so interesting that it deserves to be the "old urchin" of our family. Grandma does not show weakness. She opened her hands and blocked the TV with her body. She said, "Don't delay my series. I am old, and I have no face to compete with lesbians for TV. " Grandpa was blocked and asked himself to step down, saying, "Who do you think is as knowledgeable as you?" . -Go, granddaughter, grandpa will tell you something about my past service as a soldier. "The quarrel ended in discord. Every time we fight for TV, the ending is similar. However, this pair of "young" elders makes our family warm and happy.
When I came home from school, I was very hungry. I ran into the kitchen, only to find that it was a mess. It turns out that my parents are studying recipes. My father is a cook and my mother is a restless person. When my father wants to show his skills in the kitchen, my mother will help them. As a result, my busy mother always helps me, leaving my father at a loss. But dad is a patient person. He was never angry with his mother, but laughed it off.
When I walked into the kitchen and saw the delicious dishes they cooked together, I swallowed. I don't know where my dad got the good mood. He smeared flour all over my face at the dinner table, so my mom and I raided my dad together. After a panic, all three of us turned pale. Isn't that funny? Then, we all laughed at each other. Our family is so warm and happy.
Looking at the results of one month's hard work, I can't help smiling. For a month, I endured all my addictions and struggled hard. Sure enough, the ending is very gratifying. Run home like a wild horse with a report card and report the good news. Family members are very happy. Looking at their praise and satisfaction with themselves, I feel that everything is worthwhile. When eating, all the dishes in the bowl are filled by them. Love is surrounded by all the warmth, and only happiness overflows.
Happiness is so simple, the warm home has blocked me, and the future happiness makes me look forward to it even more. Let the flower of happiness bloom forever and let the warmth stay in people's hearts forever.
Article 10: "We must overcome this obstacle"
During holidays, if I have free time, I always follow my art teacher to sketch in remote mountainous areas. The environment of the scenic spot is like Yaochi fairyland, which makes people linger, but what really impresses me is a high threshold in front of the farmhouse hall where we temporarily live.
My teacher likes undeveloped, artificially carved environment. What he wants is natural and simple scenery. In that place, the only farmhouse we can live in is the dilapidated doorway and different doorways.
When I first went out to sketch a few years ago, I often tripped over the threshold, from the base to the calf. I often walk into a door without warning and stumble. I slapped the bodhisattva on the table of the Eight Immortals on the head. After a lot of boring losses, I finally learned to be smart. Whenever I see a door more than two meters high and more than ten centimeters thick, I will subconsciously do leg lifts.
Only later did I understand the mystery. It turns out that in this remote mountainous area, folk customs are old-fashioned and backward, and thoughts are feudal and conservative. And the height of that threshold is equal to the family's local status and so on. The higher the threshold, the higher the status of the symbol. I was happy at that time and dared to live in the village leader's house.
So I began to pay attention to those thresholds and this closed village.
The weather in July, although the summer heat in the mountains is not heavy, is still dry and sultry. We started painting at five o'clock in the morning and painted until around nine o'clock in the morning. Some people wander in the mountains from time to time, occasionally look back, as if afraid to disturb us, shrink aside and say nothing. There are only some teenagers in the mountains, but they don't go to school and run all over the mountain. When they saw someone drawing, they gathered around and began to be timid and silent. Then a bold child asked, "Is it a golden haystack in the distance?" My answer is that they started talking a lot and asked me how much this painting cost. I smiled and told them that it was just a work, not for sale.
A child asked me if I could give it to her. I nodded, took the painting and told her to wait until it was dry before taking it away. In the meantime, I asked them why they didn't go to class. A group of children frankly said that their families were poor, or that there were no scholars in their ancestors, and that the theory that reading was useless came from their parents. Suddenly, I remembered the high threshold and the dark hall inside, as if it had been blocked by doors for thousands of years.
When the painting dried up, it was blown by the wind with a lot of fine dust and embedded in the art paper. The children didn't dislike it and held it like a baby. I'm beginning to find this scene less pleasant.
When I got home, my landlady came to hold my hand and I helped her across the threshold. She held me trembling and trudged out. She said she would come next time with a strong accent. I nodded and stared at her little feet. The car is drifting away.
I turned around and looked at the old woman leaning against the door. When the sun sets, the door is yellow, but it doesn't shine on her lost years.