⑴That is a story my mother gave me that I will never forget.

Life is a journey of concern. Even an umbrella is a warm love from parents to their children.

⑵In a long life, there are many things that can be forgotten, but some things cannot be forgotten, such as this umbrella in life.

⑶After many years, I still often stand in the rain and reminisce about the story of the umbrella that lingers in my heart. My thoughts are clear and vivid, and I seem to see an aging figure walking towards me in the hazy drizzle.

Then I understood that an umbrella is a deep feeling, a deep love.

Every time I walk on the rainy road, I look at the dreamy mountains and nearby trees in the distance and say in my heart, has my mother sent an umbrella again?

In the wind and in the rain.

⑷It was one day when I was in middle school. Just before the end of class, dark clouds suddenly came over the city.

I packed my books anxiously and anxiously and prepared to go home, when the rain began to pour.

Looking at the dense drizzle, I had already hesitated. I would definitely be wet when I got home.

The twilight was getting deeper and deeper, and I bravely rushed into the rain.

⑸ As I trotted along, I vaguely saw someone in front of me, walking toward me with an umbrella.

When I walked in, I realized it was my mother.

My mother's pale face showed a smile and she stood there waiting for me.

I took the umbrella from my mother silently, as if I didn’t even say a word of thanks.

Along the way, my mother and I walked in tandem in silence.

I just looked at the flying rain flowers and thought about my own thoughts, as if I had forgotten that my mother was walking in front, and just returned home.

⑹ Later, my mother always appeared silently in front of me every time it rained.

Once, twice, three times... I always regard this as a mother's obligation.

Every time my mother handed me the umbrella with heavy steps, she would just take it and follow her silently, as if everything was what a mother should do.

⑺One day it rained, but my mother didn’t come.

Walking in the rain and not seeing my mother for a long time, I couldn't help but get angry with her.

When I ran home, I saw my mother lying ill on the bed with an umbrella beside the bed.

My mother looked at me and said to me in a weak voice: "I wanted to give you an umbrella just now, but I fell on the bed after taking a few steps. I am old after all." I threw myself on the edge of the bed, tears streaming down my face.

The tears flowed down, and I looked at my mother, whose hair was as white as frost, feeling ashamed for my ignorance and for wrongly blaming my mother's true feelings.

My mother always protected me silently, but I didn't understand this unforgettable way of love.

⑻In the light rain, is my mother holding an umbrella?

Standing in the drizzle in a foreign land, I thought of my mother in the distance again, and of the umbrella that was fixed in my life, embedded in the depths of my heart forever.