(1)
The sense of agelessness, that is, no intuitive feeling of age, is perhaps a common phenomenon nowadays. If it were not for the warm greetings from friends and family when they return home for New Year's Eve each year, it is likely that many of our friends would have overlooked the size of their real age.
From the square on the joyful dance of the amazons, to the daily hair circle to sell cute friends, although the mouth said, the action shows - how to be destroyed by life, how to be the reality of this pig-killing knife hard carving, in the end, meet the arrival of Children's Day, afraid of more than the children are also excited about it, just as "All the fairy tales are written for adults to see, all the Children's Day is also for adults to prepare for it, in order to make up for the lack of childhood, but also in order to pay tribute to the story has been very distant.
I remember in junior high school language class to learn Mr. Lu Xun's "social theater", the small friends late at night to watch the theater to see the tired return, from the roadside fields to steal picking Luo Han beans scene. At that time, I thought, according to my own experience in the countryside, the children's fun is not afraid to eat, but in the theft of Luohan beans, a small age, who is not scrambling to learn each other bad, to win the attention of others. The joy of childhood, thanks to a large group of similar age playmates, together with the fun together with high, let haha laughter spread throughout every street and alley it.
Tied in the deepest memories of the mind, to be counted and older brother, sister and a bunch of younger siblings in the old grandpa's knee haunted by the scene of the storytelling. The old grandpa is the grandpa's dad, the grandpa of our youngsters' dads. Every time he smoked a big pipe, purring, like the sound of a cat napping, while telling us stories, his white beard was yellowed by smoke, and his cloudy eyes shone with a kindly light. The story is about his childhood, said when he was a child in the market how to be big cap (the name of the then new-style police) seized, pulled to cut pigtails of the story, over and over again, so that each of us can tell the story to write down, then the next time he spoke, and he told, amused him laughing, laughing tears, we also followed the laughter of the hall, after each play their own, or pull out a bird's nest; or peel a He then got up and went to the neighborhood to cut some grass for the dinner of a few rabbits, and then went home with the setting sun amidst the noise of the children, as the saying goes, "yellow hair and hair, and happy.
At the time of writing this story, it has been a century since the old grandpa's childhood, and the distance from our childhood is also in the unimaginable past.
(2)
The memories of my childhood are filled with my grandmother's kind smile.
Grandma was a superstitious person, but a very powerful and extremely tough old lady. Her authority is not earned by crying, shouting and screaming, but in today's words, she is a practical person. A very practical old lady in the countryside. The four daughters-in-law are all convinced to her, convinced to her superstitions, are accepted wholesale.
Grandma's superstition is not to seek a high life for herself, to ensure peace.
When I was a child, every time I burned incense behind my grandmother, I would always listen to her prayers:
May the old gods bless the whole family with good health, not sick, not sickly; go out smoothly, work smoothly.
It sounds very hierarchical, and I think it is also to save the old gods the trouble of organizing. I think it's also the reason why the family and everything is happy, the heart of the world is wide, grandmother to a large family of well-organized, envious of a large group of people in the village.
The grandmother's practicality lies in the fact that she can't stay idle. The four sons, even if it is not the time, but also this is a stroll, that look, and help to solve the problem of the burning. The most important thing to remember is that it's the time of the year when the family is busy with the harvesting of the wheat. Farms have not yet popularized mechanization, a wheat harvest, a family of more than twenty people to the town, adults cut wheat, children glean wheat, no one is idle. In the gleaning of wheat, the girl's task is to help grandma cook at home, the real countryside stove, to make more than twenty people's meals, now think about it is still a huge project, and grandma to do it is like a handful, and spare time to put her from the field to pick up green wheat in the bottom of the pot, with the fire to burn the wheat for us children to eat, burned after the use of a dustpan to the grain of wheat all rubbed out, evenly divided among everyone, and she rubbed black and black, and then she was a little bit tired. She would not leave a single grain in her black hand, but we would greedily stuff the grains into our mouths, savoring the fragrance of the new wheat and ignoring our noses, which were blackened by the ashes of the pot.
Grandma's resilience lies in her optimism about life. Their generation was starved, ate elm bark and Guanyin soil, experienced too many births and deaths, only to face all the pain and suffering of life's outlook. As the saying goes, every family has a difficult time reading the scripture, each family are less bump, for young families, such bump seems to be a big thing, and even make a mess, when the son's family has a quarrel, grandma will take the grandchildren to their own home, so that the young couple in the home to make a mess, or perhaps her philosophy is that, enough to make a mess of the natural reasoning, there are times to make a mess of the reason, grandma will put the son's ruthlessness! The grandmother will be the son of a ruthless count down, the fire down, over the two quarrels of the hot period, the grandmother will also see the needle to the daughter-in-law some advice, undoubtedly played a half-hearted role.
(3)
Sugar gourd, which appears irregularly in winter, is a great temptation for every child, thinking about the sour and sweet flavor, the saliva can not stop flowing out.
I don't know where my mom and dad learned their skills, and I don't know how the two of them plan in private, but suddenly one day, the family did a sugar gourd, called "hawthorn red" in my hometown, and of course, my younger brother and I couldn't wait to see it. The happiest part of the day is to help my mom and dad clean hawthorns, and then pick the good ones and string them up with bamboo sticks. The most fun we had was to help our mom and dad clean the hawthorns and string the picked hawthorns with bamboo sticks. Because we were not yet old enough to go to school, we had a lot of time to spend, and our curiosity about the process of making hawthorn red drove my brother and I to stay up late at night, waiting for our father to boil the sugar, and then the two of us would scramble to dip it in the sugar to make our own hawthorn red, and then go to bed with our hearts contentedly, while our parents continued to make dozens of strings of candied hawthorns by dipping them in the sugar and sesame seeds, then put them in a sealed cardboard box and put them in a sealed cardboard box, and put them in a sealed cardboard box. Put them in a sealed cardboard box and put them in the yard to take advantage of the natural cold temperature to keep the hawthorn crunchy. Early the next morning, my father would walk along the streets with a box of red hawthorns and columns full of red hawthorns, capturing the hearts of street children with his loud voice. In the winter in the north, it was very cold, and after my brother and I had passed the enthusiasm of making hawthorns with our own hands, we waited for our father's return in the evening every day, accompanied by the dusky sunset. When we grew up, dad still kept his love for hawthorn red, the hawthorn red on the street was more and more diversified, so I bought two bunches of hawthorn red for dad every time I had a chance, and when I watched him eating so sweetly, I couldn't help but teasing him, "There were so many hawthorn red in the house back then, didn't you have enough of them?", mom then said Mom then said, "At that time, I only wanted to sell a few more bunches of hawthorns, but I didn't want to eat them myself". Yes, in retrospect, every time my father came back, the box is basically empty, even if there are one or two bunches, it is also divided into my brother and me.
The hawthorn red in me, is a warm memory.
I believe everyone has a unique childhood memory.
It's Children's Day, may my friend always be a child, simple and happy.