In the sixties and seventies, straw sandals were everywhere in the countryside. It would be nice to have a pair of straw sandals to wear when food and clothing were not solved. When my grandfather died early, my father became the main force of farm work at home very early, and also took over the "three treasures" handed down by my grandfather-hemp fiber, hat and straw sandals. Hemp fiber and cloak are only used when it rains, and they are usually shelved, but sandals are commonly used.
Father's sandals are woven inch by inch by mother. In autumn, I began to prepare materials. From the harvested straw, select golden and full straw and remove branches and leaves. Under the mother's skillful hands, thousands of straws are intertwined and slowly become sandals. In order to facilitate farm work, the toes and instep of straw sandals are exposed. Weave the soles and tie the ropes, and a pair of new sandals will be made.
In spring, summer and autumn, my father wore straw sandals woven by his mother, went up the mountain to cut firewood and plow the fields. Straw sandals have always been with my father and are his closest partners. A pair of straw sandals can't last for a month at my father's feet, and the life expectancy is even shorter in rainy days. Every once in a while, mom knits new sandals for dad. Under the dim oil lamp, I am doing my homework and my mother is knitting straw sandals. Sometimes, after I finish my homework, I watch my mother's hands turn. The birth of a straw sandal made me feel particularly magical.
Spring ploughing and autumn harvest are the busiest times for farmers. When the cuckoo crowed for the first time, his father took down the plow that had been sleeping for a winter from the wall, wiped it gently, like a gentle husband wiping the dirt off his wife's face, then oiled the plow iron, and the plow shone in the spring sun. A strong cow has been raised for a winter and a thousand miles, and it has been used for a while. It's time for it to work. Everything is ready. Father put on straw sandals, carried a plow and drove the cattle. In spring, he began to plow, tied the plow behind the cow, took off his straw sandals at the edge of the field, and the cow ran ahead, driving the iron plow and dividing the field into holes. Under the control of my father, cows are very smart, unlike when I graze cows, I either secretly eat my master's wheat or secretly eat western radishes. I yelled. As soon as the cow's stubbornness came, she turned her head and ran directly to someone else's wheat field to eat. It is said that dogs look down on people, and so do cows.
In my junior year, I had no motivation to go to school. Many young people in our village have never been to high school. After graduating from junior high school, they went to work in coastal areas, and their lives were very chic. Every year, they go home for the New Year, dressed in fashion and fashionable clothes, which makes me envious. I made an appointment with several classmates in the same village to work in coastal areas after graduation. I have no intention of studying. I wandered around the school all day, wandering around the mountains and rivers around the school, playing everything I could, playing basketball, billiards, table tennis, football and video games, leaving nothing behind. It's crazy to play
My father has always been taciturn and unsmiling, and he has heard about my performance at school. He said it twice, but when he saw that I didn't make progress, he stopped talking.
I study at school from Monday to Friday and go home on Saturday and Sunday. When I am at home, I always go to the fields with my father. After my father plowed the land, my task was to herd cattle. I was particularly interested in my father's sandals at that time. I always thought that the sandals knitted by my mother should be particularly good to wear. I often secretly try on my father's sandals, but after putting them on, I feel uncomfortable. I still like wearing my father's sandals. I think wearing them is particularly imposing and can hold up a sky like my father.
Once, I put on my father's sandals and had a good time by the field. My father looked for shoes to wear after ploughing, and found that my face was like a dark cloud in the sky on my feet, and it turned black in an instant. He gave me a whip as soon as he cut it, leaving me at a loss. A burning whip mark made me roll on the ground, but my father didn't explain much, leaving a cold sentence, worthless! Turn and leave. How I hated my father at that moment! People who hate him are too stingy to ask why.
Father won't let me wear sandals. I insisted on wearing it, so I begged my mother to knit a pair of sandals according to my feet and wear them in front of my father every day. Father seems to have forgotten the whip and turned a blind eye to my performance.
I went to the farm with my father again. After my father put the plow on the shelf, he called me over and said, farmer's son, farming is a survival skill, and you have to learn it sooner or later. Learning late is better than learning early. Give it a try! I dare not say anything, lest the whip fall on me. I stood behind the plow almost as tall as me, holding the handle tightly and using all my strength. After my father gave me the plow, he stood in the back and stopped talking. I know he is serious, so I can only imitate him and shout for the cow to move forward. The cow looked back at me, and I saw the disdain in its eyes. Sure enough, if I let it go left, it will go right. If I let it go forward, it will go back, completely ignoring my instructions. How I wanted to prove to my father that he could do it and I could do it, but I failed, and even the cows discriminated against me. The more I think about it, the angrier I get. I whipped the cow to make it obey. The cow tripped and ran out of the field. Before I could put the plow, I was pulled to the ground and was about to fall under the ridge. At this time, a pair of powerful big hands grabbed the reins of the cow and the cow came back honestly. My father didn't give me a score on the cultivated land this time, and he continued to farm silently.
One spring, I was learning this ancient skill. Finally, my hand changed from a bloody bubble at the beginning to a thick calluses. Every time I plow, I feel my father's hardship. Farmers have lived on the land for generations, begging on the land all their lives, calloused hands and bent backs are all consuming vitality and can only make a living.
My father gave me a vivid lesson, not in class, but in the farmland. I finally understood my father's good intentions. He didn't want to let me go his old way, and continued to wear sandals, facing the loess and facing the sky.
Back to school, I stopped fooling around, listened carefully in class, didn't ask questions, didn't know how to go to school, and finally kept up with my grades. When I was in the senior high school entrance examination, I was successfully admitted to high school. I know high school is just the starting point. When I slack off, I feel the scars on my face and calluses on my hands, and I start to work hard again.
Although I still hate my father's whip, I know that without it, I will never wake up and continue to sink. I am grateful for that whip, which woke me up, made me full of energy and gave me a better future, so that I didn't have to wear sandals to run in the fields.