Plant elm trees in front of the house and poplar trees in the back. I don't know when this rule was made in the village, but there is no taboo for Sophora japonica. Although there are no taboos, there are many locust trees planted in the village yard, but none of them are as tall and stout as the old lady's locust trees.
Only two lovesick people can embrace each other. Straight trunk, rough bark, vigorous and full of vicissitudes. There are two Westinghouse houses under the lonely tree, and the houses are also vicissitudes. The tiles on the roof are covered with weeds and rice grains, and the soil on the wall is peeling off. A few newborn sparrows are chirping in the nest under the eaves.
The old lady's man died young, and her two daughters married in a foreign village. She didn't want to live with her daughters, so she stayed in a lonely yard and was destined to be together for life. Loneliness is a way of her life, and the old locust tree that can't talk is a part of her life.
The old lady loves cleanliness, and the yard is always tidy. Although the clothes she wears are patched, they are also densely sewn, not the kind of big needles and thick lines that hinder her eyes, and they are always washed clean. The old lady's cleanliness sometimes reaches the level of cleanliness. The production team sent someone to fetch water for her. She poured the front bucket of water into the water tank for cooking and drinking, and the back bucket of water into the water basin for washing clothes. She said that the bucket of water in the back was not clean. Someone teased her, and when she poured the bucket of water in front of her into the water tank, the man pretended to suddenly remember and said, "Oh, this bucket of water was in the back, and I changed it to the front before I entered the door." The old lady frowned. Later, she refused others to carry water and went directly to the well with the jar.
A scene in the village when Sophora japonica blooms. Yellow Sophora seeds spilled from the yard into the street. Sophora seeds can be sold after drying, so when the old lady took a nap, some children climbed over the wall to pick Sophora seeds. The old lady was not angry when she found out. If she is awakened by the noise of the children, she will sit quietly on the kang, look through the window lattice and wait silently for the children to come down from the tree. The reason why the old lady kept quiet was that she was afraid that the children would fall from the tree when they saw her.
The old lady is famous for her kindness. She always speaks slowly and softly, never blushes at anyone, and is very enthusiastic and popular with everyone. She doesn't like to drop in, let alone quarrel between neighbors. She usually carries a pony and sits under the locust tree to do needlework. When you are tired, you can rest your eyes on the locust tree. Trees are shaded by branches and leaves, birds are jumping on branches, and the old man lives a leisurely and miserable life in silence, regardless of external disputes.
The courtyard wall facing the street is not high, and the noise of attacking weapons outside often comes from the partition wall. The old lady sometimes stands under the old pagoda tree and looks out. She didn't know what to say and closed the door in a hurry. The slogan of ghosts and gods outside is very loud, and the old lady is still burning incense and worshipping Buddha. No one comes to the door to make trouble. Some children bullied the landlords and rich peasants who paraded the streets with signs, and the old lady loudly told the children to do more good deeds since childhood.
After autumn, all the leaves are gone, and strings of Sophora japonica beans are fluttering on the branches. The old lady knocked the Sophora japonica beans down with a pole, washed them, soaked them in a basin, cooked them with seasoning, and grabbed some to eat when someone came. The old lady can't eat herself and can't bite her teeth. At this time, Sophora beans are more attractive to us children who are often hungry than a table banquet now.
My family is as grateful to the old lady as many people in the village. My brother told me that in the late 1950s, when everyone was starving, our whole family loved the old lady very much. At that time, my father was working in a reservoir site far away from home, and my mother was struggling with her eldest sister, brother and second sister. According to the regulations of the team, adults have a spoonful of porridge every meal, children have a spoonful of porridge every meal, and the whole family has only two spoonfuls of porridge every meal, but this is not enough for big sister and big brother. When the children finish eating, the mother just drinks some cold water or picks some leaves to satisfy her hunger. Seeing that my mother was getting thinner, the old lady quietly took out half a ladle from her share of rice and gave it to my mother. The old lady said to my mother, "You have to eat this half ladle of rice. If something happens to you, what about the three children? " It was an era of hunger everywhere. Even my grandma and grandpa refused to help our family, but that unrelated old lady was so helpful. She gave us most of the porridge. Therefore, my brothers and sisters always sigh when they mention this matter, and always talk about the kindness of the old lady.
1980, my mother died of illness more than a month before my college entrance examination. Pa delayed my studies. Under the arrangement of my father and brother, I went home to see my mother for the last time, and went back to school the next day until the funeral. For this reason, someone in the village accused me of being unfilial. The night before my mother's funeral, the old lady came to Peng Ling with her little feet to comfort me and said, "Don't be angry, your mother won't hear you if you cry again. Go to your school well, you will have a good future, and your mother will feel at ease underground. " Apart from relatives and friends, the old lady is one of the few neighbors who comforted me after my mother died. A kind word has warmed three winters, and the old man's words have moved me to this day.
1986, an 80-year-old woman died without cause. I was on a business trip and didn't go to see her off. So far, I feel sorry for her.
After the old man left, the old locust tree stayed alone. Every time I go back to the village, I think of the kind old man when I see the old locust tree. Later, the old man's homestead was transferred to others, and the old locust tree was shaved, but every time I passed by, I still remembered the old locust tree and missed the kind old man. As long as the place where the old man once lived does not disappear, as long as my memory does not disappear, I think I will remember the old man and the old tree all my life.