However, some things have passed for a long time, but they always appear in my mind, scene after scene, so clear and true, as if it happened yesterday, making people want to forget. So, after several hesitations, I finally decided to write down these old things about Xiaomi.
When I was a child, my father worked in a coal mine hundreds of miles away, and my mother and I lived together in my hometown in the countryside. Every autumn when farming is busy, my mother, as a big-footed woman at that time (a considerable number of her peers are wrapped in small feet), has to take part in the labor of the production team. And since I came to this home, I have never seen my grandfather, grandmother, grandmother and grandfather. As a result, working in the fields and taking care of young children have become two major burdens that mothers must shoulder at the same time. I still clearly remember my mother's description of me: "At that time, you were young and no one in the house looked at you. When I cut grain on the ground, I put you on my back and told you to play in the fields. " If you are tired of playing and want to sleep, I will hug some millet and spread it under the big persimmon tree. I told you to lie on it and sleep, because it won't be scolded by the captain. "How many years later, I still often see a picture in my mind: in the mottled shadow of the big persimmon tree, on the bed covered with golden millet, a red and chapped peasant child is happily asleep. The sound of his mother's brush sickle and the monotonous and harsh chirping of cicadas echoed in his sweet dreams. When all the millet in the field is cut, men will bundle it into "grain stacks" to pick it. Women will cut off the ears of grain with a sickle, then grind them with a stone, and then lift them with a wooden shovel after grinding. Finally, it's time to grind rice with millet.