The feeling of calving was very good. Gu Xi fell ill and died.
When you are worried about children's wisdom, you are willing to be a horse and a cow.
I'm going to pour a glass of wine for Huang Tian, and I'm going to pay homage to my mother today.
A thousand words told me through the diaphragm that I woke up in tears.
1923 On the 21st of the twelfth lunar month, a tenant in Shitouzui Town had a baby crying. This baby is my mother.
Later, I heard menstruation say: When my mother was born, my grandfather didn't say anything, but turned away with a sullen sigh. Grandma knew that grandpa preferred sons to daughters, so she covered the newborn baby's head with a quilt in a rage and prepared to suffocate. At that time, my aunt, who was only 8 years old, cried and tore the quilt open, begging her grandmother to let her live, even if she was given away as a child bride. At that time, my grandfather had a large family with elderly parents, two men and two women.
Grandpa has a distant cousin named Shen. Somehow, children born always die young. He held my mother in his arms until June of the fourth year, when they gave birth to a dull and inarticulate son. In the following years, three men and two women were added one after another. At that time, although my mother was only 14 or 15 years old, she had endless farm work and housework every day. Those children were spoiled and went to school one by one, and their mother could only look at them with envy.
Time flies, time flies. When my mother was 20 years old, she married her husband who was 4 years younger than her (male to 15 years old). After getting married, my mother said she felt depressed. When she was working alone in the field, she sang Ten Complaints. "One person complains about my mother, but I didn't do anything ... ten people complain about my life, and my fate is not decided by people. ....
1949, spring thunder came everywhere, another day, women turned over and men and women were equal. During the land reform period, female leaders held a mobilization meeting, and child brides could speak on stage or apply for divorce orally in person. At that time, my mother had just given birth to my elder sister, and she was reluctant to breast-feed the baby in her arms. This is life, this is a mistake. If it had been liberated a year earlier, maybe a smart mother would have been a different scene!
The adoptive parents (in-laws) died one after another, and the mother gave birth to five daughters in the Shen family, two of whom starved to death while eating in the canteen on 1959. The poor are angry and the straw smokes. I heard from the second sister: her father is rude and incompetent, and he is still a sullen person. As soon as he opens his mouth, he scolds my mother and hits her as soon as he starts. If he contradicted her, he ran angrily, grabbed her hair and threw it underground, punching and kicking. They held her father's thigh in fear, pushing and crying.
1966 In the twelfth lunar month, my sister's honest father died of advanced diabetes. In that era when food was not enough and clothes were not warm, an illiterate rural woman lived with her three daughters. Her mother said that she earned work points in the squad during the day, and at night several children took off their clothes when they fell asleep, washed them all night and then dried them. Her name is rags to mend chickens (mother is clean and tidy all her life). In that era of working to eat, a family without men, the mother's anger, pain and fatigue can be imagined.
1967, my mother and my father were introduced together (at that time, my father lost his wife for several years, only the eldest son got married, and the other three sons were underage). )1February, 968, there was a skinny me at home. At that time, my mother was 46 years old, and there was no milk because of the lack of oil and salt and elderly women. My mother has to cook rice soup for me. During the day, my second sister hugged me and cried with hunger, asking for milk everywhere. As long as she is the mother of a child my age, she is my wet nurse. The combination of two families (except the newly married eldest sister) and six underage children, only I am the button between my parents, which closely combines my half-brother and my half-sister together. Children have many parents, stepfathers are difficult, and stepmothers are even more difficult to do. As long as I can remember, I was particularly afraid of my mother's tears and couldn't think of anything to comfort her. My son is unhappy only when he cries silently with his mother.
Three brothers and two sisters, all growing up slowly, are short of housing. 1972, my parents built three tile houses in the new stope. From laying the foundation to laying the roof tiles, my mother was tired and hungry and fainted many times. Second sister quickly melted a bowl of light salt water and slowly fed it to my mother with a spoon. My third sister and I cried with fear. The poor are afraid of bedding, and the rich are afraid of building houses. The large collective is already short of food and clothing, which is really not easy for a family with a large population and no financial resources!
As long as I can remember, a family of eight. My mother keeps three cows, a pig farmer and two half-sized pigs, grows vegetable gardens, washes clothes and cooks, and is responsible for cloth shoes for eight people. Mother always carries a basket when herding cattle, or picks up pig grass or firewood, or picks wild tung or catalpa, and never comes back empty-handed. In summer, my mother had a toxic heat attack and was covered with sores, so she had no money for injections and medicine. She always pulls Artemisia capillaris, takes off leaves, washes them with water, and then takes a bath with chrysanthemum stems and honeysuckle vines. Mother has a mouth and hands. Doing things neatly, walking is trotting. It's a pity that my mother's advantages were not passed on to me. I'm stupid and stupid.
My parents have never been to school and have suffered from illiteracy. No matter how hard and tired you are, you should send your children to school (only the second sister of the eight of them didn't go to school). My brothers all graduated from primary school. Mother always said: It is better to die than to die. My brothers are apprentices. They are very frugal. On holidays, they also invite the master's meal and resign from the master's year.
Several brothers have reached the age of falling in love, and the mother has asked someone to introduce her brother. If her in-laws visit, she always treats them as kindly as possible, for fear that a slight negligence will affect her son's marriage. At that time, I was not sensible, and I was extremely happy to see my brother's parents-in-law coming. I think we can finally have a meal today! Usually, I always drink clear water porridge, and my father also said: children who are studying have nothing to do, so they should eat less and let their brothers and sisters eat enough to earn work points.
1974 On September 20th, the third brother and the third sister-in-law got married. I was six years old then. I clearly remember that in early September, my father worked in a small team during the day. After dinner, he borrowed money from relatives and friends outside with a stick. Everyone was in trouble then. My father ran for several nights without receiving the bride price and six sets of clothes. My parents said helplessly: I have a headache, and now I want to sell the pig. /kloc-On the morning of September, 0/9, my father picked up dozens of pounds of meat in the street. In the evening, I witnessed my mother measuring all the dishes for the next day's guests with a dish bowl. Only by cutting them into small squares and measuring the meat with fine fat, I saw my mother frowning and whispered to herself, there is really no way but to cut some robidin together. That night, I heard my mother sigh again and saw her pacing back and forth in front of the kitchen chopping board. Finally, she sat on a small bench in front of the stove and drew on the ground with poker. She stayed up all night.
During the winter vacation of the first grade of primary school, the right ear suddenly became red, swollen and inflamed, and it was so painful that it circled over the ear that there was no money for treatment. Mother was so anxious that she asked the folk prescription. She quickly picked up the hoe and ran to the pond to smash a piece of ice. Without hesitation, she took off her shoes and socks, rolled up her trouser legs and brought a big bowl. She went to the pond and put her hand into a crack in the stone on the bank of the pond to touch the snail. When she got up, she forgot her hands and feet and quickly lifted the thin cover on the snail's eyes. While the saliva dripped out, she quickly stuffed it into my ear with fever and pain. Change a fresh snail every night, and it really gets better after half a month. My mother looked at me sallow and emaciated. I really can't think of any way. I wrapped the broken square flower scarf with the rice head on the rice screen (the rice that has not been completely shelled), hammered it open with an axe, opened the scarf and blew off the impurities, and then simmered some oil and salt porridge in a fine pottery pot. I wolfed down a few bites. That bowl of porridge is simply better than delicious food, and I will never forget it!
One day in the summer vacation of the third grade, my father had a whim and transformed the old toilet that had been used for several years into a pigsty. Not long after, my eyes were not red or swollen, and suddenly they hurt like acupuncture, especially in the afternoon and evening, crying and crying, and I couldn't sleep for days and nights. Later, under the careful care of my mother, my eyes gradually recovered. If I didn't have a wise and virtuous mother, maybe I would have become a deaf and blind disabled person!
I vaguely remember that when I was a child, I was often awakened by the creaking of my mother's spinning wheel in the middle of the night. (The team leader arranged to roll the cotton out of the cottonseed first and send it to the oil mill to fry the cottonseed and extract oil. The cotton rolled out of seeds is called net flower, and apart from the task of handing it over to the state, each household will share 2 Jin equally. At that time, Third Sister came home from school every day to help rub cotton strips. Spinning mother yarn with cotton sliver. She is ingenious, spinning thin and well-proportioned, and spinning several large yarn balls overnight. Now I forget how many Jin of thread I exchanged for an old cloth. Anyway, the whole family is wearing old cloth. Until now, I still have a faded and patched old cloth jacket, which I can't bear to throw away. Think of Zhou Shouchang's poems edited by the Hanlin Academy in the late Qing Dynasty;
The robe is still frugal, but the collar is still warm.
The heavy seam can't bear to be dismantled lightly, and there are old line marks on it.
1976 At the end of September, my nephew was born, and my mother was so happy that she couldn't keep her mouth shut. Although it was already cold that year, my mother caught a cold and coughed more than money. She insisted on washing diapers for several months and finally coughed up emphysema. Since then, every winter, my mother's illness has become more serious. She blushes, her neck is thick, her mouth is open, and she breathes like a saw. Every time, Third Sister always buys medicine to relieve her illness.
At the age of 73, my mother had another stroke and couldn't take care of herself. She usually lives in the second sister's house and is carefully served by her. I don't think my son has won the favor. My mother has paid the most for me and I have paid the least in return. Bitter meat is not good meat! ) I occasionally use a scooter to bring my mother to stay for a while. Sometimes I use rude words to argue with my mother, and even contradict my sick mother. My 76-year-old mother died in my home at midnight on the seventh day of the first month of 2000, ending a difficult life.
At that time, the children were in poor condition and were too busy to be filial. "It's better to have a daughter than nothing at this time." As an unfilial daughter, I always thought that my mother was chronically ill and wouldn't walk so fast. I died for my mother-in-law's old age, and my neighbors all said that I did my duty to my mother-in-law. How do they know that I made up for my mother's guilt? A few days before I left, my mother was still worried about me. Just as two kind neighbors changed my mother's shroud into the coffin, I knelt in front of the bed and an arrow pierced my heart, looking in a trance. ...
That night, I have been writing in front of my dead mother's coffin:
Dear elders, friends and relatives:
Today, the mountains bow, the rivers make way, and the sky cries.
My kind and kind mother, Wang, was born in 1923 on the 21st of the twelfth lunar month. He died on July 7th, 2000/KLOC-0, at the age of 77.
Mother's life, less than three dynasties child bride, middle-aged widowed, seriously ill in her later years. Save money all your life, work hard and live hard. ...
Motherly love is like water, so gentle. It's hard to see mom's voice now, alas! Alas! Just close your eyes and remember ... the paper is short and sentimental, the pen is clumsy, and the tears of Philip Burkart and Qian Qian are hard to repay your mother's kindness! My chest is unbearable, my thoughts are hard to get rid of, and I don't talk much. I have the right to vent my lovesickness and blame myself for my depression.
May mother go all the way and rest in peace forever.
? Filial piety: I think this is crying.
The eighth day of the first month of 2000
People leave their names, geese leave their voices. All three brothers can get married and have children, which shows that this stepmother is quite successful! Now several nephews and nieces are very promising, some are studying and some are serving. Some people are in politics, others are in business, ... In short, there are workers, farmers, business students and soldiers. Every year in Tomb-Sweeping Day, they first come to my mother's grave, kowtowing respectfully, offering incense and burning paper money. The flowers in front of the mother's grave and the marble tombstone are densely engraved with the names of future generations. This is my brother's reward for her stepmother and recognition of her achievements before her death!
My parents are really a pair of bad debts. My mother has been hardworking and reasonable all her life. I can't finish talking about my mother's suffering and her dedication to her children day and night. Finally, I used a poem of pulley to express my nostalgia and deep guilt for my mother. At the same time, I advise friends whose parents are still alive to take me as a warning: it is better to die than to die!
I owe my mother a poem (pulley)
I owe my mother a poem, when the morning breeze blows Liu Nianci.
A cold lamp fills a needle and thread at night, and the child contains sideburns.
The drizzle moistens countless branches, and I owe my mother a poem.
There are green grass in front of the grave, and the mountains and waters are far away.
In a blink of an eye, I saw kindness several times in my dream.
I owe my mother a poem.
Author: Wu Siben, from Yingshan, Hubei. Born in February, 1968, migrant worker, high school education, love literature. I don't laugh when I'm drunk, but I'm carefree. Now a state-owned enterprise in Shaoxing, Zhejiang Province is working.