When I picked up the pen, I wrote "home" without thinking about anything.
Perhaps, this is the truest emotion in a person's heart, which is revealed directly from the hands without thinking or even filtering by the brain. The simple words made me look at them but couldn't help but blur my vision.
Home is a harbor. When you have gone far, you will naturally return to the harbor where you are anchored. Home is a place to rely on. When you are tired, you will lie down and sink into the soft bed, sinking deeply. Got drunk once. Home is a person’s eternal habitat.
Of course, the "home" I am talking about is not that house or that thatched house, but the nest with the people you love and the people who love you. There is no distinction between rich and poor families, even if they are divided, they are still emotionally rich and poor. Home is the source of happiness. After being away for a long time, I always feel a little lost in my heart, which is beyond words.
If I were asked to use words to describe my home, I would suddenly find it impossible to describe it. It’s not that there’s nothing to write about, it’s just that there’s too much to write about and nowhere to put it down.
My home is neither beautiful nor big, consisting of mom, dad, younger brother, and me. Holidays are noisy, but there are only a few minutes of peace. On such days, there are complaints, sorrows, joys, laughters, joys, ups and downs. It would be difficult for me to write it down with a pen.
I miss home, think about the yellow light, and see it in the evening. No matter how cold the weather is, there will be a warm current flowing into the blood, flowing all over the body, and the legs are numb with cold. He ran back with all his strength.
Since I entered high school and chose to live on campus, I have been home less frequently. Then, I suddenly discovered that I was so homesick!
Perhaps it is because of the pressure of study, perhaps because of the numerous homework, perhaps because of the inability to adapt to the new environment, or perhaps because of being tired in this tense atmosphere, but these are just "maybes", Only I understand how much I miss the smell of that little nest and every breath of those people.
I really miss home.
That kind of longing is a very small feeling, soft and thin.
Occasionally, when I am free, I stare at the draft paper on the table in a daze. At that time, my mind is blank, but the pen in my hand is particularly clear. No need to control, just guide your hands and draw something on the paper. When you stop, you are surprised to find that it is the outline of a home. Pictures appeared in his mind, and the corners of his mouth rose unconsciously, but there was an indescribable sadness in his heart, which made his eyes red with sourness.
I can’t describe that feeling, even if I feel it all the time.
When the family sat together to eat, under the yellow light, everything was so harmonious and well-balanced. Now, sitting at the dining table, looking at the food in the bowl, I muttered: "It's chili again. Dad loves it, but I can't eat it. There are also eggs. My brother must fight for it with me, or should I?" Mom's cooking is the most delicious..."
What appeared in front of my eyes was: my brother was sitting in the middle and stretched out his hands to hold the lobster. His little hands were stained with oil. After holding the last plate, my mother suddenly frowned. He frowned and shook his father who was engrossed in eating meat. "Don't just eat for yourself. Look at your son. He's full of oil. Get the paper!" While chewing the meat, the father reached for the paper stuffing. To my brother... And I was enjoying the food there, watching all this, smiling.
The smile at that time was so pure, from the heart, and without any reason. It was the sweetest and happiest smile in the world.
I searched hard in my mind, trying to use all the most beautiful words to describe my home, but I found that my vocabulary was too small to praise the beauty of home.
The pen couldn't help but stopped because the frame of the mirror was shrouded in heat, making it difficult to see clearly.
If I continue writing, I’m afraid the paper will get wet.
If you really miss home, just express your indescribable love in silence!