I was born in an ordinary working family, the family is average, my father is an ordinary staff, my mother is a corporate accountant, in 1997 was laid off, around the odd jobs, my parents work hard, try to earn money, for me to go to school, it is not easy.
I remember when I was a child, I often saw the family home where I live to a lot of waste collectors, some of them pulling a flatbed truck, some riding a tricycle.
The car put a lot of sacks, there is a pole scale, collect rags of people to collect beverage bottles and cans, they will use their feet to step on them one by one flat, and then one by one pointing to the number of; those newspapers ﹑ paper ﹑ cardboard, scrap iron to collect the waste of waste will be very skillful bundled up, and then weighed according to the weight of the valuation; there are also beer bottles and other wastes will be recycled at a low price.
It is said that after they collect the waste from the households in our family homes, they will transport it to the larger waste collection stations to sell it and make a profit from it, which is how they make a living.
These people will pick up scrap along the way while collecting it, and can earn a little extra money.
Although I know the work of collecting waste is very hard, I sometimes envy them, probably because I feel that this job is very free.
My thrifty mother saw a business opportunity in this, so I started to use my evening exercise time to walk with my mom to pick up scraps.
At first, I only picked up beverage bottles, cans, beer bottles, and later, so that the waste paper and scrap iron also picked up.
Mom carried a sack, I put the scrap found into the mother's "treasure bag", always full of return, happy to go home.
We piled up the waste on the balcony of the house and sold it to the people who came to the family home to collect the waste.
I told my mom that I wanted to see what a big junkyard was like. Mom then took me there. Mom borrowed a flatbed truck from someone, we pushed the flatbed truck, flatbed truck with our "treasure bag", my mother and I ran all the way to the scrap yard.
The waste collection station is usually on the outskirts of the city, all the way to the vendors especially many, but let me have the deepest impression of the seller of freshly squeezed sugar cane juice vendor.
The vendor used a tricycle to put the juicer and sugar cane. The juicer is placed inside the tricycle and the sugarcane is neatly arranged outside the tricycle. The juicer is manually operated, and a few revolutions of the turntable held in the hand fill a cup with fresh sugarcane juice.
I looked at the fresh sugarcane juice with bated breath and stood in front of the tricycle, not wanting to leave. My mom read my mind and bought me a big glass of sugarcane juice.
I have loved drinking sugarcane juice ever since. My mom would buy me a big glass of sugarcane juice every time I was on my way back after taking me to the scrap yard.
Sugarcane juice has also become my childhood memories. The taste of the fresh, sweet and tender juice moisturizing my throat is something that I can't forget for a long time. But there are some things that I don't know what kind of flavor, but also burned in my heart.
After many years, I still remember that night when the streetlights were particularly bright.
My mom and I were picking up rags on the street. While we were picking up bottles, a drunken uncle handed me a green glass beer bottle and said, "Little girl, this is for you, take it."
I said, "Uncle, thank you."
I immediately ran to my mom and handed her the beer bottle. When my mom missed, the beer bottle shattered with a pop, and the glass shards glistened in the streetlight.
Ironically, the glass slag from the shattered beer bottle looked a bit like a child's winking eye, as if to say, "What are you going to do with me?"
The uncle kept looking at my mom and me, making me and my mom so embarrassed that we had to turn around and leave.
Who knows, that uncle even chased after us, mom thought it was a bad guy, so she told me to go quickly. But that uncle chased us for a long time, mom took me to walk though very quickly, that uncle still caught up and said, "Big sister, I want to talk to you alone."
I walked to the side of the street and waited for my mom. That uncle talked a lot with mom, and although he was a little drunk, he felt that the person was still sober.
Somehow, there seemed to be a lot to say to mom. I was so happy to see you, and I was so happy to see you, and I was so happy to see you, and I was so happy to see you, and I was so happy to see you, and I was so happy to see you, and I was so happy to see you.
Uncle talked to mom for a long time, and finally, he seemed to give something to mom, and then finally left.
Mom reached out and showed me what the uncle had given her. A one dollar coin.
At that time, five beer bottles were sold for a dollar, but a dollar wasn't so easy to earn for scavenging.
I was very happy.
I was very happy. I asked my mom, "What did the uncle say to you? Why did he give you a dollar?"
Mom said, "That uncle said, he told me not to bring my child with me when I pick up rags, it will bring bad influence to the child's growth. I'm not sure if you're going to be able to find the best way to do this, but I'm sure you're going to be able to find the best way to do this. He thought I didn't have a job and specialized in scavenging. He was probably just drunk, and by the time he sobered up, even what he'd done himself he'd forgotten." Mom downplayed what had just happened.
That uncle must have told mom more than that, and why mom was reluctant to talk about it, I don't know.
Maybe mom didn't want to tell her uncle that she was taking the kids to pick up scraps, on the one hand to take me for a walk and exercise, and on the other hand to tell me that it's not easy to earn a living, so that I would know that life is hard, and that I could understand the world a little bit earlier.
As for making money, it may be the least important purpose. Since then, I have a special affection for green beer bottles.
Later, I graduated from college and came to Japan to study, and my mom still insisted on picking up scraps.
In the first year of my study abroad, I didn't dare to ask my family for money, but my mom took the initiative to send me 20,000 yuan. I don't know how much of this money was saved by my mom from selling rags, but the moment I received the money, I couldn't stop crying.
I know that it is rare for a family like ours to pay for me to study abroad. I'm not sure if I'm a good person, but I'm a good person, and I'm a good person.
In order to reduce the burden of my parents, I studied in Japan for five or six years while working, studying hard, working hard to earn money, and worked as a courier sorter, a supermarket clerk, a housekeeper, a hotel cleaner, a deliveryman, and even handed out flyers on the street.
These jobs were hard work, but they helped me finish my master's degree, pass my Japanese exam, and recently get my PhD, which I am very proud of and happy about.
And over the years, it seems that my parents picked up rags as a daily routine in their lives, even picking up some rags along the way home every time they finished a square dance.
I also advised my parents not to pick up rags anymore, which would make people look down on them. I have grown up and have the ability to live. But mom said, just think of it as being environmentally friendly.
Life is so strange, when something is done for a long time, it seems to have become a habit.
This story is not writing a novel, nor is it playing chicken soup, it is my real experience. Some people may find it unbelievable, but it really happened to me.
The story of picking up scraps with my mom is like a short episode of my childhood, but the taste of the fresh sugarcane juice and the green beer bottles are like a brand in my heart.
Whenever I think back, the situation was always so clear. I am far away from the overseas whenever I think about this scene is like a fish in the throat.
I know I can't give up my studies in the middle of the day, and I only hope to return home as soon as possible, and tell my mom with my actions: for the rest of my life, I will support you!