On a silent night, it was raining in Mao Mao. A family can see a woman as busy as a bee from the window. What's she up to? She is busy taking care of her feverish child. How about taking her temperature and taking a wet towel to cool her down? It makes her sweat and feel heavy. That woman is my mother and that child is me. My mother looked at me with a red face and was anxious. My mother looked out the window at the Mao Mao rain in the street. I can't stand it any longer. She picked up a thin blanket and covered me. Then she carried me on her back and went straight to the nearby clinic with an umbrella. When I arrived at the clinic, the doctor began to ask me about my illness. I sat alone on the bench, curled up in a corner, hot and cold, and felt very uncomfortable. Suddenly, I heard the doctor say that I had to have an injection. At that time, I was most afraid of taking injections and taking medicine. At this time, I got excited, lifted the thin blanket and ran out directly, regardless of whether it rained or not. My mother and some young doctors came to arrest me ... Finally, I was "caught". My mother hugged me and I cried. Suddenly, I saw tears flashing in my mother's eyes ... I gradually felt hungry and told my mother that my mother begged the doctor to stall for time and then went home to cook for me. I continued sitting there, waiting for my mother to come. Unconsciously, an old doctor sat beside me, stroking my head gently, and said to me earnestly, "Son, you are so happy. You should cherish such a good mother. " Be filial when you grow up! "I nodded puzzled. After a while, I saw the familiar figure coming towards me in the rain. "It's mom! ""I saw my mother running quickly with something in one hand and an umbrella in the other. My mother came up to me and said with a smile, "Good boy, look, this is your favorite noodle!" " "I was very happy, so I ate it willy-nilly, and my mother smiled knowingly again ... I felt very comfortable after eating this bowl of noodles. Of course, eating noodles means an injection. I don't know why, but I'm not afraid of injections. Did that bowl of noodles give me something magical? I don't know. I'm lying on my mother's lap, and the long, sharp needle in the doctor's hand is going to prick my ass. I gritted my teeth and endured the pain and persisted. After a while, the doctor smiled at me and my mother praised me. My heart is sweeter than eating honey ... since then, I am no longer afraid of injections ... I still remember that night. Now, I finally understand that the bowl of noodles I ate at that time gave me the power of love.