In the morning, my mother and I went to the vegetable market and bought some Indocalamus leaves and glutinous rice to make dumplings. When I got home, I washed the dark green leaves and white glutinous rice first, then carefully poured the glutinous rice into a big bowl, and then I began to learn how to make zongzi from my mother. I saw that my mother skillfully folded the Indocalamus leaves into a funnel, then poured glutinous rice into the funnel folded by Indocalamus leaves, embedded a candied date in the middle of the glutinous rice, pressed the glutinous rice tightly with her hands, and then folded the zongzi into four corners, and a zongzi was born in her hand. I followed my mother's example. I first folded the Indocalamus leaves into a funnel, and then filled it with glutinous rice, but the glutinous rice slipped away from the bottom of the funnel like naughty bags. I finally filled the glutinous rice and folded the zongzi into four corners, but the trouble came again. The glutinous rice either "ran" this way or "ran" that way, and suddenly it fell apart, which made me waste my time. So, I had to start making zongzi again. As the saying goes, once born, twice cooked. After several failures, with the help of my mother, I tried my best to wrap a zongzi. But my zongzi is a "four unlike", neither like a triangle nor a circle, unique, and it is a far cry from my mother's zongzi, but I still feel very happy.

Looking at the rice dumplings that have been cooked one by one, I can smell the fragrance coming from them, which makes me feel the joy of doing it myself. It's not ordinary sweetness!