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After a while, my dad came running with some apples in his arms. He handed the apples to me one by one from the car window. Looking at my dad's frosted white hair, I couldn't help but shudder, and the last apple didn't catch and fell on the ground. The last apple fell to the ground, and my dad hurriedly bent down to pick it up. At that moment, the car started, and my dad scrambled to rub the dirt-stained apples on his clothes a few times, and handed them to me again. The car started, Dad waved his hand out of the car window and shouted anxiously, "That apple, you don't eat it, it hasn't been wiped clean ...... Don't forget to write home from school." My hot tears gushed out, dripping on my hands and on the apple that was still stained with dirt.
(Excerpted from "At that moment, I was touched")
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It was a night of nine days and nights, and I went to my dormitory after studying, but I found a man curled up on the side of the road. Originally did not pay attention to, but when the eye touched the pair of broken cotton shoes, I stopped in my tracks, is the mother! She raised her head and shook the snow off her body, and walked to me with heavy steps, her frozen fingers still clasping a bag. I opened the bag and saw a pair of new cotton shoes and some eggs. When I touched the eggs with my hand, there was still warmth on them. She happily took out an egg, peeled it and sent it to my mouth, looking at her pleading gaze, I took a bite with tears in my eyes, and when I realized that she had waited for me in the snow for nearly two hours, I angrily scolded her with heartache, "Why don't you come to me in class?"
She lowered her head in aggravation and told me in sign language, "I don't want people to know that your mother is mute, they will laugh at you." At this point I could no longer restrain my feelings and threw my arms around my mother, who was now only as tall as my shoulders, and was further humbled by the look on her face, which was first horrified, then turned to joy, and finally tentatively wrapped around me.
(Excerpt from Mother's Silent Love)
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The expression on his face, as he approached the woman, became softer and softer. By the time he sat down and peeled off the outside of the ice-cream wrapping for the woman, the soft, clear undertones of the old days returned to his brow. They ate the ice cream for a long time, until the sunlight poured down, like a light veil, embracing them. By the time I passed them again, he was holding her hand, heading toward a pool. There, he was earnestly helping her to crouch down while he washed the juice of the ice-cream left on her hands. At that moment, they leaned against each other, and the reflection in the water, swaying, was like a pool of happiness that could not be contained.
(Excerpted from "You are the most perfect flaw in my heart") Paragraph 4:
Under the scorching sun, in the field, the mother waved the hoe, in her black cheeks, rolling many fine and crystal small beads of sweat. Gradually, these small beads of sweat gathered into a bean grain-sized beads of sweat along the wrinkled cheeks downward, flowing to the chin hanging for a moment, flashing to fall. This moment of sweat beads in the sunlight, is so crystal bright, silver light. Yet in an instant they fell again, dripping into the hot earth at their feet and stirring up a small cloud of smoke.
Excerpted from "Mom's Beads of Sweat")
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Mr. Zhao, with a hoe in one hand and a letter held aloft in the other, panted and ran into the small courtyard, "My son's mother, come and see, my son has sent a letter!"
A smile spread across his face. He threw down his hoe, rubbed his other soil-stained hand vigorously on his tattered jacket a few times, transferred the letter from the hand he had just held to the hand he had just rubbed, rubbed the hand he had just held the letter on his jacket again, wiped the sweat with his sleeve, rubbed the letter flat, and waited for his old companion with a smile on his face. (
Excerpt from "A Letter from My Son")
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Mother, dressed in a tattered and tattered pair of overalls, was bending over to wash the fish, her bloodstained hands numbly dry. A strand of dry and burnt hair floated in the wind. Suddenly, my mother coughed slightly, hunched over, and only after a while did she straighten up, pounding her chest and knocking her back, everything I understood, and she smiled awkwardly as my mother and I met eyes.
(Excerpted from A Scenic Route)
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The next day, I went to visit my mother in the hospital with a bouquet of carefully pruned jasmine flowers. Gently pushed open the door, I saw my father's head against the edge of the bed, tightly tugging on my mother's hand, put in the arms of the "nest", sleeping soundly. Perhaps my footsteps woke up my father, his head trembled, gently put my mother's hand down, pulled me out. "Dad, why don't you find a bed to sleep in?" "I'm afraid your mom is uncomfortable at night and won't wake me up, I tugged my hand in my arms, as soon as she moved her hand, I woke up." After saying that, he went to buy breakfast. Looking at his father's tired figure, a stream of warmth came out of his eyes, is the tears are flying.
(Excerpted from The Most Romantic Thing)
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Daddy was asleep on the cooler taking a nap, and the cicadas outside kept chattering among the green leaves. I tiptoed into my dad's room and laughed when I saw him sleeping. One of my dad's big hands was half hanging in the air, a few beams of sunlight shone on it, revealing dappled traces. I was curious to hold up the hand, through the beams of light, I saw my father's fingers thick and long, dark and black, as if a rough iron plate, the heart of the hand is covered with large and small yellow hillock, hard ......
Sunlight suddenly burned my eyes, I can not bear to look at it, will be the father's hand on the cooler! and the tip of my nose was sore.
Thinking of the first time my dad used his big hands to lift me up high, the first time he used those big hands to make me a kite, the first time he used those big hands to assemble a bike for me ...... Now I've grown up, but my dad's big hands are polished and marked by age, could it be that I carved them up with a knife? My tears could no longer hold back the fall.
Excerpted from "At That Moment I Was Moved")
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Because I hadn't eaten for a day, I took out the fruit, bread and ham from my bag, and ate them by myself.
The man across from me looked at me twice at intervals, his hands scrunched up in his sleeves. When I looked up at him, he hemmed and hawed. After a few repetitions, he headed for the door alone. When I was about to finish eating, he came back, holding a roasted groundnut in his hand, still steaming white. When he touched the skinny woman next to him, he shoved the hot groundnut into the woman's hand, and in the process hugged the child she was holding.
The woman stared blankly at her man for a moment, and a blush swept across her face. She was probably surprised: is the sun coming out of the west today? Men usually couldn't afford to spend money. The woman began to eat the groundnut, blissfully, quickly, obviously hungry. There was no blood at all on her pale face. Halfway through the meal, the woman suddenly remembered something and rushed to the man and said, "You eat, I'm full." The man said, "Eat when I tell you to!" The woman doesn't eat. The woman said, "You didn't eat, your lips are still dry." The two of them pushed and pushed and you told me to eat and I told you to eat. Finally the woman forced half a piece of groundnut into the man's hands. The man ate, and hugged the child shrunk into a ball ......
(Excerpted from "In the cold wind, two people leaning together is warm")
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That day, the wind roared, the grass and trees were in the doldrums, and I sat in a public *** car ready to get off the bus to go home alone, but then, I saw a man The wind kept flipping the corners of his coat---it was my father! Through the window, clearly saw the father's white hair, not the moon's clear glow of the dye, no gorgeous words of decoration, is white hair, is a root, a piece of white hair, the father's white hair, time and again by the gusts of the wind overwhelmed but again and again unyielding stand, that a fall in a stand, I know who must be for ......
( Excerpt from "A Father's Love is Like a Mountain")