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The winter of that year was particularly cold, and people were frightened by the cold. Mother went to empty the jar again, but it contained rice, and even the smell of rice could not be smelled. I was in a daze for a while, and my mother kept sighing. I also look through the cans every day, but I don't cry. I smiled naively. "Mom, don't worry, one day we will have food. White and tender rice will be piled up one by one, straight here, here and finally here." I pointed from the bottom of the tank to the mouth of the tank. "At that time, we won't eat rotten leaves on an empty stomach." I closed my eyes, as if I saw white rice, smelled the aroma of hot rice, and ate soft and sweet rice. But mother shed tears.
That night, my mother stayed up all night. I woke up hungry from my sleep and saw my mother sitting by my bed. Touching my hungry face, I kept crying. In a daze, I seem to have fallen asleep again. It was snowing heavily in my dream, and it was raining in Mao Mao, like my mother's tears.
Early the next morning, I was dragged up by my mother. The glistening snow outside the window covers everything like white flour, endless white. I excitedly ran out of the house without shoes, rolling in the snow, facing the thick snow, opening my mouth to shovel the snow. ...