Whenever I hear this familiar song, there will always be so many memories coming to my mind instantly. In my childhood, although there are no memories of my mother telling stories, there are three stories that I will never forget.
Dear grandma is the first person to tell me stories, and the stories in memory are the most beautiful in summer. Lying on the grass mat in the yard, looking at the stars all over the sky, grandma talked about the Goddess Chang'e flying to the moon, the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl, and sang some children's songs of bugs. The story of winter is a bit scary. The weasel pays New Year greetings to the chicken, the mouse marries the girl, and the old cat and monkey steal the chicken. The end result is: sleep, don't sleep, the weasel stole the child after pulling the chicken. ...
Now that I think about it, it may be because children don't want to go to bed early in winter and feel bored. Grandma always tells these stories to deal with it. Therefore, when adults are asleep, I am still too scared to sleep in the occasional cock crow or the squeaking of mice gnawing at the legs of the bed. Even so, every time I think about it today, my heart is still warm.
Later, I came home as a foreigner, and slowly made some friends of similar age. When I was free, I went to my aunt's house, where I could tell stories. It is said that she is a child bride, and her husband is ten years younger than her. At that time, she was very old, her hands were shaking and she was knitting her hair. We children braided her hair and changed her story.
Most of what she said was her youth, as well as the folklore stories we read later. Like the story of the white snake, the story of Yingying, the story of fighting tigers in Song Dynasty, the story of Taoyuan, the story of strange stories from a strange studio and so on. I have heard a lot from her, but I can't remember it clearly now, but I still feel very warm when I think of listening to stories in her warm cabin.
Besides, school is over. Our old headmaster, whose stories are very inspirational, always tells us stories about the battlefield in political class, and sometimes forgets to ring the bell. He told such a thrilling story about War of Resistance against Japanese Aggression and guerrilla warfare that he always shook his arm and clenched his fist at the end and said to us, Look! By 2000 ... nothing more than the realization of the four modernizations, upstairs and downstairs, lights and telephones, and so on. Just listen to us full of longing.
Strangely, at that time, none of us thought that 2000 was 2000, and it was always 20000. Anyway, we thought it was a long time ago. Now, in a blink of an eye, it is 20 1 1. When I think of the past, I feel that it is a distant thing.
In the end, the stories are all my own, and I gradually like to immerse myself in sad or happy stories to feel the warmth of the pen. But after many years, I always feel the long-lost affection and warmth when I think of those years of listening to stories. ...
Note: On the eve of the final exam, Nuo Nuo fell ill and had a fever. She slept in a daze all day and felt a little better at night. In order to alleviate her anxiety before the college entrance examination, I didn't force her to go to bed to prepare for the next day's exam. Instead, I chatted with her and told stories about my childhood to people who listened to me.
As I was talking, I was thinking, since I don't like listening to my mother's stories, as a mother, let me tell my daughter stories about the past. ...