The loving mother sat in the dim light, sewing clothes for her son Meng Jiao. Holding the needle in her left hand and the thread in her right hand, she slowly passed through the eye of the needle, tied a knot and sewed it carefully. This needle and thread contains the mother's concern and worry about her son. She is worried that her son won't be home for a long time. My family is too poor to buy silks and satins for my son, only coarse clothes and linen.
"son! You should be careful everywhere outside, get along well with others, and often write home to reassure your mother! " Say that finish, choked up, at this point, tears involuntarily fell down. Meng Jiao put down the book, looked at his loving mother and nodded deeply. At this time, he was full of thoughts and even decided to stay at home with his mother, but he couldn't let her down. In order to repay her, he had to make a name for himself. He remembered the difficulty of going to school as a child and his mother's hard work.
When I was a child, Meng Jiao's family was very poor and had no money to send him to school. He also knows that it is not easy to understand his mother. Much as he wants to go, he doesn't want to burden his mother. The cautious mother finally realized that in order to let her son go to school early, she worked hard to weave and work hard every day. Finally, the mother gave some money to her son. The son was shocked, and the mother only said, "Take it!" "Meng Jiao knew that money was hard-won, and studied hard from then on. ...
Now, he can go out for a long trip to study. No one can understand the excitement in his heart and his concern for his mother, and no one can understand it.
Tomorrow, he will leave, leave his loving mother, leave this shabby hut, and leave his hometown where he was born and raised. He can't say what he doesn't want. He can't do anything for his mother. He can only say that he will often miss here when he is away, and he can't help but sing a poem when he is away:
The thread in the loving mother's hand,
Make clothes for her wayward son.
She sewed it carefully, mended it thoroughly,
Afraid that the delay would make him come home late.
But how much love does an inch of grass have,
Make three spring scenery.
Outside, the biting wind is still blowing, but this small room is full of warm spring.