When I saw the piles of golden corn cobs in my hometown, those sweet and sour memories about corn came back to my mind.
I remember when I was in primary school, there was a famine and there was a big family. Two meals a day are mainly potherb soup, bran cakes and sorghum noodles, and such meals are almost eaten until the next meal.
One autumn day, when my mother was working in the field, she fainted. She was sent home to rest by the production team leader. When I came home from school, I saw my sallow and emaciated mother lying in bed, speechless. I know in my heart that the reason why my mother's body will become like this is not fatigue, but hunger. Because, every time I eat, my mother always lets our brothers and sisters, grandpa and dad eat first. Sometimes, after my mother has finished eating the food, there is not much left. My mother eats leftovers, or just a little fried noodles, and then goes to work in the fields. After a long time, her body naturally collapsed. Seeing my mother's haggard face, I feel unspeakable sadness in my heart.
Putting down my schoolbag, I went to the bean field of the production team to find pig grass with my basket as usual. Passing through a cornfield, I saw the big corn cob on the corn stalk and suddenly had an evil thought-stealing some corn cob for my mother to eat. So, I came to a bean field, while cutting bitter vegetables and gray grass with a sickle, thinking about how to steal corn and take it home smoothly. Because the production team is afraid that someone will steal corn, every corn field is guarded.
Soon the basket was full of pig grass. I went back to the cornfield and saw my uncle sleeping in the shed with his back to me. I looked around and found no one else, so I slipped into the corn field with my basket. My heart is pounding. But when I saw the bulging corn cob and thought of my hungry mother, I forgot to look at this and touch that. I carefully looked at a big, fat and tender corn, and I broke it off the corn stalk. The corn fell firmly in my hand. I carefully observed that the skin of this kind of corn is green and yellow. After taking off his coat, he was wrapped in a layer of underwear. Besides underwear, he also wore a bright green gauze skirt. When I lifted the veil, lifted its golden hair, revealing its red and white fruits, the grains were crystal clear. I unscrewed eight corn cobs in one breath, poured more than half of the pig grass in the basket, carefully put the corn cobs in the basket, then pressed the pig grass on it, shook the cradle with my arm, feeling that the corn would not be exposed, and then slipped out from the other end of the corn field, went around to the bean field, and slipped down from the high bean field with the basket. The pig grass in the basket was scattered on the ground, and I didn't care to pick it up.
When I got home, I quietly told my sister who was cooking that I had stolen the corn from the production team. My sister covered my mouth with fear. I said, "Cook it for my mother, or what if my mother is hungry?" Although my sister was anxious and afraid, she peeled the corn and put it in the pot with me.
The corn is ripe, so I asked my sister to serve it to my mother. I ran outside the yard to watch the wind, because I was afraid that someone would come to my house when my mother was eating corn. It was terrible. Who knows, when my mother saw the corn, she not only refused to eat it, but also scolded her sister for not being sensible and daring to steal the corn from the production team. Sister went out crying. I had to go into the house and tell a lie to my mother: "Grandpa, who was watching corn, heard that you were hungry and fainted, and specially asked me to bring it back to make you something to eat." My mother is dubious. I put the corn in my hand. My mother may believe me, or she is too hungry. She picked it up and chewed it. I was both happy and worried.
Many years later, when I told others about this disgraceful thing, I always felt ashamed and uneasy.
After the production team harvested the corn, the cut corn stalks were piled in the field. Every afternoon after school, my brother and I came to the corn stover pile with baskets and turned them one by one, hoping to find the exposed corn stover, or those that were discarded without mature seeds. To my surprise, I can still touch most of the baskets of corn cob. A few days later, we searched all the corn stalks of the production team and peeled more than two buckets of corn kernels. Mother grinds it into flour, or makes it into corn flour for the whole family to eat, or steamed it into corn flour cakes to make dry food for my school.
In that famine era, corn almost became the "life-saving" staple food at home. However, because I often eat rice made of corn, I feel extremely uncomfortable in my stomach. Even when I see food made of corn, I feel sour in my stomach.
Finally, I hope that the rural land contract responsibility system will be implemented, and finally there will be enough food at home, away from the dilemma of living entirely by eating corn. Later, I was admitted to the normal school, graduated and took part in the work. I am far away from my hometown, far away from the land, and unconsciously forget the corn, forgetting these past events related to corn.
Thanks to the bumper harvest of corn, when I returned to my hometown, I saw the corn stalks releasing the last background color of my life on the ridge, and the thick kitchen smoke seemed to pay homage to the lost heroes. They may not be described in words, but I can feel the "magnificent life" one by one. Unfortunately, I am not a historian, otherwise I can write them into endless history; It's a pity that I'm not a rolling artist, otherwise I can draw with my hands or take a "final photo" with my camera. Standing on this once fragrant field, I can only recall it in my mind.
It is not easy to live in the county and eat corn. The love for corn is even stronger. If you can eat corn every year, it is just a few corn cobs sent by relatives, or a few corn cobs sent by my brother in my hometown, and then cooked. Sometimes, my wife will buy some corn on the cob to cook, but it is not as sweet as corn when I was a child.
Then, every year during the National Day holiday, I always go back to my hometown to accompany my father and brother to the cornfield to break corn and talk about home.
Last year's "National Day" holiday, I went back to my hometown to break corn as usual. However, without my father, I always feel that I have a heavy corn cob in my hand.
After the National Day holiday this year, I didn't go back to my hometown, and naturally I didn't break corn. Although I will think of breaking corn in my heart, I am more concerned about my dead parents.
Seeing the photos of corn exposed by friends in WeChat circle of friends suddenly reminded me of the bitter past about corn, the situation of working in the corn field with relatives, and the corn that once saved my life.
Just think about it. Your eyes are moist. I don't know if it is because I regret stealing corn, or because I am grateful that corn saved my family's life, or because I miss my parents in the grave.