It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter.
Do you know snowdrops? It's tender and white, and it looks fragrant and soft at first glance. I rush over and hold it in my arms, like a ball of cotton.
The bread is this tender white little snow lotus.
When Bian Bian was in the fourth grade of elementary school, he dragged his mother by the hem of his clothes and came to his stepfather’s house. Even Bread, who is in the fourth grade of elementary school, is not much taller than the children in the first grade. His whole body is as white as snow, and his face is also white and tender. When her hair was tied back, even the veins popped out of her head one by one. But when she smiles, her ears and cheeks will always turn slightly red, which is quite cute.
When she stretched out her hand, it felt like a boneless chicken claw. It was so soft that when she turned her fingers around, she could touch the back of her hand.
Bread has not changed much from fourth grade to junior high school. I eat, go to class and go home every day. During class, as soon as the teacher asked her to get up to answer a question, the silly girl kept giggling and laughing as she stood up. No one knew what she was laughing about, and no one knew what was funny about this formula. Later, the class teacher would often hit her on the head with a book when she laughed, but she still touched her belly and giggled. laugh.
Later she became the monitor of the junior high school. With her soft little body, she was wrapped in clothes when winter came. When the bicycle arrived, it was shorter than the car. Tall people couldn't see her when they raised their heads. , even if you become a squad leader, you can't manage much serious things, you can only be a diplomat. After all, when she was fierce, she couldn't glare at others
At that time, none of her classmates were afraid of her. They all thought she was a soft and cute girl. They would run with her as soon as the wind blew. When the grass grew, I wish I could grow up faster than her.
When I was in the third grade of junior high school, I wanted to hang myself up to do my homework every day. My eyes were open 24 hours a day, my waist was straight all the time, but the bread didn’t come for a week. Bread's academic performance is recognized as good in the class. No matter how the situation changes, she will always be in the top five. Taking time off due to illness has never happened to her.
But it has been a week and Bread has not come to class.
When Bread came back to class, the white lotus had withered. It had rained on it, and it was full of tears and covered with fine beads. The eyes were bloodshot, and there was a layer of black underneath. Bread walked to her seat without saying hello to anyone. At this time, let alone the wind, she might have fallen down if the flowers drifted down.
Sitting quietly on a chair alone, what happened outside or what was being said in class had nothing to do with her anymore.
During morning exercises, everyone ran down. Several of her best friends knew what happened to her, but they couldn’t tell her how to comfort her. When I passed by the corner of her desk, I hesitated to speak. Just as I was about to float over, my hand was grabbed by soft claws, which were cold and cold. Before I could react to the coldness, she had already rushed in.
I cried and grabbed my clothes heartbreakingly, and the clothes immediately became warm. What is supporting you these days? Is there anyone who can make you stay gently these days? What kind of life are you living these days?
Bread is sobbing in my arms, and I can’t hold back my tears. My mind is dark. I only know that Bread can’t see tomorrow, can’t see hope, and can’t find warmth, so stay with me. Let her cry together.
Bread’s mother passed away a week ago. The cause was cerebral hemorrhage, just outside her home. When I frantically called my stepfather, he didn't care at all. Just treat it as a trivial matter, and then, when the bread comes back, what is waiting for her is not the mother who depends on each other, not the mother who hugs her and cooks various dishes for herself. It’s my mother’s tightly closed eyes and her heart that can no longer beat.
The world of bread is destroyed, and the only hope is gone.
At that time, my biological father drank alcohol and would always hit my mother, so my mother tolerated it.
One day later, the father directly picked up the several-year-old bread and threw it to the ground. The person he was throwing was not his biological daughter at all, but a wine bottle!
My mother cried, and she hugged her and kept sobbing. Mom should stay away from this man and don't let her children live in such an environment.
Her mother gave her all her love and protected her with all her heart. Even if I found someone later, it was this person who was pretty good to my child, so he came to my stepfather’s house.
Her stepfather could only be described as being polite to her. He didn’t hit or scold her, but he didn’t love her either. The bread became a bottle of oil.
The little sister who was born was so tender and plump. No one, not even her stepfather or relatives, cared about her. Her mother's love was divided into half, and the bread was soft-hearted. She did not complain about all this, and she still felt that she was happy, no matter how much she was not loved, how many times she was traumatized, and she still had her mother behind her.
However, now that the glass behind him has fallen down, if he is not careful, he will fall directly from the upstairs.
My mother saved tens of thousands of dollars for Bread to go to school. But it didn't escape his stepfather's eyes. He began to secretly take the money inside, use the money to go out drinking, dancing, hugging an aunt from an unknown neighborhood, and shaking his fat waist and butt full of lard.
My stepfather was in a car accident, and my sister, who still had bread in her car, was both hospitalized. After Bread finished high school, he had no choice but to stop studying and go out to work early. Because I am short and not very tall, I am always considered to be a child laborer and most companies do not want me. In the summer of July, I can only carry my bag and water, run from house to house, and walk all the way.
Faced with all this suddenness, with the support of relatives, the hospitalization expenses were paid, but Bread had to take care of this and that, and he had to work at the same time. And she was just a child who had just graduated from high school. At an age when the bones on her shoulders could still be crushed, she began to run around in this boundless world.
The younger sister was discharged from the hospital soon, but the stepfather remained paralyzed on the bed, pooping and peeing all over the bed, and the house was filled with a stinky smell. All the money has to be used to take care of my sister and pay for my father's expenses. Later my father died.
He left a will: the house and the fields all belong to his sister. After all, she was just a passer-by, with nothing. No, her father left her a pile of debts, so that when she saw the debt collectors, she had to hide quickly, and the debt collectors would run over when they saw her.
She doesn’t need this bit of property. All she needs is a heart. She doesn’t ask for your love, but at least treat her as a relative.
She calmly called me that day: My father is dead.
I was silent on the other end of the phone and said for a long time: It doesn’t matter if I die or not.
She said: Yes!
I felt her choking and knew that there was no hatred in her heart. Her heart was always soft, just like her hands.
Suddenly I remembered that shortly after Bread’s mother passed away, Bread didn’t dare to stay at home alone. This home was so gloomy that she was frightened, and this home was so indifferent that she was terrified. This home was no longer Belongs to her. She called me in the middle of the night and asked me in sobs: Can I stay at your house?
Now she is a forged snowdrop. She can raise her sister by herself, stay at home alone, and fix light bulbs by herself. After work every day, she runs home to cook, and she seems to be a skilled cook. little women.
After all, this person cannot be a little princess, but can only be her own queen, so why not be a queen?
Bread has been working as a clerk in a factory. She is an ideal person and wants to do a lot, but every time she can only say: No, I can't leave. My sister is still in school. When she is a little older, I will go out to work again. Now I work close to home so I can take care of her.
Four years have passed. A few days ago, she suddenly said that she wanted to study for a special degree, so that she would only have to go to class on Sundays and work at other times. I accompanied her to sign up, which was great! She finally started to move on with her own life.
The white lotus finally bloomed more fully. She did not lose her smile. She kept smiling, and she was also giggling at me on the phone.
This is a very simple story, but it is real life. It's very ordinary, nothing earth-shattering, no sorrow, hatred or resentment, just life.
No matter what, it will eventually pass, and the future will eventually be unpredictable.