The title of the book was written by Miss Han Xiaohui, so it was named "Ford". But I wrote the article willingly, so it's not stereotyped writing.
Why am I willing to write such an article? In short, a well-written topic not only won my heart, but also won my heart first: I have long wanted to write such a book.
One thing.
I'm nine years old. In the past seven or eight decades, from rural areas to cities; From home to abroad; From primary schools, middle schools and universities to foreign research institutes; From "determined to learn" to surpassing "not exceeding the moment", there are twists and turns and bumps, not only through Yangguan Avenue, but also through the wooden bridge; Experienced a lot, not only after "suspicious no way back", but also after seeing "another village with a bright future". For Qi Fei, joy and sadness go hand in hand, while disappointment and hope coexist. There are regrets everywhere. To choose the deepest, truest and most unforgettable regret, that is, the permanent regret, is also within reach, because it has never left my heart for a moment.
My eternal regret is that I should not leave my hometown and my mother.
I was born in an extremely poor rural area in northwest Shandong. Our family is the poor among the poor, and it can really be said that there is no poor place. During the ten-year catastrophe, I jumped out to oppose the perverse but popular "Lafayette" of Peking University, which was regarded as a thorn in her side and determined to get rid of it quickly. Wannabe, who was under her command, jumped to my hometown twice and tried to "beat" me into a landlord. Their arrogance as a vicious teacher didn't scare my parents. When I was a child, a partner pointed to their noses and said loudly, "If Quanguan Village complains, Ji Xianlin's family will be the first!"
This sentence is not an exaggeration, it is telling the truth. Grandparents died early, leaving their father and other three brothers alone and helpless. The youngest uncle gave it to someone else. My father and uncle were so hungry that they had to go to someone else's jujube forest to pick up the dried dates that fell on the ground to satisfy their hunger. This is certainly not a long-term solution. Finally, the two brothers were forced to leave their homes and go to Jinan to make a living. At this time, they were only in their teens and twenties. In a big city without friends, Uncle Jiu must have gone through a lot of hardships to settle down in Jinan. So my father went back to his hometown and said that he was a farmer, but there was no land to cultivate. It must have gone through a lot of hardships. My uncle sometimes sends money home from Jinan, where his father lives. Somehow, I found a daughter-in-law, my mother. My mother's maiden name is Zhao, and her family is as poor as ours, otherwise she wouldn't get married. She has no food at home, so she has no money or leisure to go to school. So my mother doesn't know a word, and she has lived all her life without a name. Her home is in another village, five miles away from our village, which is the farthest my mother has walked in my life.
That "Lafayette" of Peking University became a "landlord" because I was born in such a family and had such a mother.
Later, I heard that our family was really "rich" for a while. Probably at the end of the Qing Dynasty and the beginning of the Republic of China, Uncle Jiu used the last fifty cents left in his pocket to buy one tenth of the Hubei flood lottery and won the prize. The two brothers talked about "returning home with wealth" and went home proud. So he took the money home, and Uncle Jiu stayed in the city, and his father made plans for the village. He bought bricks and tiles and built a house at a ridiculous price. Bought a field with a well at an absurd price. I was very excited and really proud. Unfortunately, the good times didn't last long. My father entertained friends from all corners of the country in an absurd way. In an instant, the built tile house was demolished to sell bricks and tiles. Oil fields with wells have also changed their owners. The whole family has returned to the original situation. It was at this time that I was born in this world under such circumstances.
Of course, my mother experienced this great change personally. It's a pity that I was only a few years old when I lived with my mother. Tell me, I don't understand either. Therefore, the sudden ups and downs of our family are like a flash in the pan, and I haven't fully understood it. I'm afraid this mystery will become a mystery forever.
Anyway, our family has returned to the previous poverty state. It was later said that our family had only half an acre of land at that time. I don't know how this half acre of land came from. A family of three lives on this half acre land. Of course, my uncle in the city will give some help, but things like the flood prize in central Hubei are not rare once in a lifetime, and my uncle doesn't have much money to help his brother.
How can I live at home? I'm too young to say clearly. I ate badly anyway, I know that. According to the standards at that time, eating "white" (referring to wheat flour) was the highest, followed by eating millet flour or stick-flour cake, and eating red sorghum cake for the last time was red, like pig liver. White has nothing to do with our family. "Yellow" (the color of millet flour or cake is yellow) has little relationship with us. Only "red" people spend all their time with each other. This "red" is bitter and astringent, and it is really hard to swallow. But if I don't eat, I'll be hungry. I'm really a little red.
However, children also have their own ways. My grandfather's cousin is a juren, and his wife I call her grandma. Their branch is very rich and has land. Although juren is dead, his family is still very good. My great-grandmother is still alive. Her own grandson died young, so she gave all her love to me. She is one of the few people in the whole village who can eat "white". She not only eats by herself, but also leaves half or a quarter of a white-flour bun for me every day. I wake up every morning and immediately jump off the kang and run to the village. Our family lives outside the village. I ran to grandma and shouted, "grandma!" " "She immediately smiled from ear to ear, put her hand back in her fat sleeve, and took out a small bun from her pocket and handed it to me. This is the happiest moment of my day.
In addition, I can occasionally eat a little "white", which I bought by myself. In the summer wheat harvest season, our family has no harvest at all. My aunt and aunt Ning, who live across the street-their families are poor enough-took me to the fields of rich people in our village or other villages to "pick up wheat". The so-called "wheat picking" means that when other long-term workers cut the wheat, there will always be some ears of wheat left. These are not worth picking up, so we poor people come to pick them up. Because there will never be much left, we only pick up half a basket for half a day; However, for us, this is already a fortune. My aunt and aunt must take special care of me. A child of four or five or six years old can pick up ten catties and eight catties of wheat in a summer. My mother wiped all these off. In order to reward me, after the wheat season, my mother will grind wheat into flour, steam it into steamed bread, or paste it into white flour cake to satisfy my appetite. So I'm full.
I remember one year, when I was picking wheat, my performance might be a bit "extraordinary". On the Mid-Autumn Festival-farmers call it "August 15th"-my mother got some moon cakes from somewhere and broke a piece for me, so I squatted down beside a stone to eat. At that time, for me, moon cakes were really wonderful things, and it was hard to compare them with dragon liver and phoenix marrow. I seldom eat it once. I didn't notice if my mother was eating. Looking back now, she didn't eat a bite. Not only moon cakes, but also other "white" ones, which my mother has never tasted, are saved for me to eat. She may have been eating red sorghum cake all her life. You can't even eat this in famine years, you can only eat wild vegetables.
As for meat, the memory of eating seems to be blank. Next door to my mother's house is a workshop selling boiled beef, which has worked hard for farmers all my life. When they were old and could no longer farm, several farmers bought them at a very low price, killed them in an extremely barbaric way, and cooked and sold the meat. Old beef is hard to cook, there is really no way. The farmer peed in the meat pot, so the meat was rotten. Farmers have good hearts. In this case, they told their neighbors, "Don't buy meat today!" My mother's family is poor. Although I love my grandson very much, I can only use a clay pot, spend a few dollars to make money and put a can of beef soup. Talk is better than nothing. I remember once, there was a tripe in the jar, which became my patent. I can't bear to eat it all at once, so I cut it piece by piece with a rusty iron knife and eat it slowly. This tripe can really be compared with moon cakes.
"White", moon cakes and tripe are rare. How about "yellow" "Yellow" is also rare. However, although I am only a few years old, I have come up with an idea. In spring, summer and autumn, grass and crops are growing outside the village. I will mow the grass outside the village, or cut sorghum leaves in other people's sorghum fields. Splitting sorghum leaves is not only forbidden by landlords, but also popular; Because the ventilation can be improved when the leaves are cracked, sorghum can grow better and the grains can be beaten more. Grass and sorghum leaves are for cows. Our family is poor and we have never raised cattle. My second uncle's family has land and often raises two big cows. My grass and sorghum leaves are for them. Whenever I, a child with less than three pieces of dried tofu, walk into the door of my uncle's house with a big bundle of grass or sorghum leaves on my back, I feel safe and not afraid. If I leave the grass in the cowshed, I will always get a "yellow" meal and will not be "rolled up" by my second aunt (in our local dialect, it means "scolding"). Speaking of Chinese New Year, I feel in my heart that I have made great achievements in feeding cattle in the past year and have the courage to go to my uncle's house to eat yellow flour cakes. Yellow flour cakes are steamed with yellow wheat and dates. Although its color is yellow, its grade is above "white". Because it is only eaten once a year during the Chinese New Year, scarcity is the most expensive thing, so yellow powder cake is more expensive.
What I said above is all about food. Why do you talk about food when you talk about your mother? The reason is not complicated. First, as a child, I easily care about what I eat; Second, almost all the delicious food I said above has nothing to do with my mother. She has nothing to do with anything but "yellow". I only stayed with her until I was 6 years old, and then I went home twice in a short time. Looking back now, even my mother's face is blurred and there is no clear outline. In particular, I find it difficult and easy to understand: I can't remember my mother's smile anyway. It seems that she has never laughed in her life. Her family is poor and her son is far away. She suffered a lot. Where does the smile come from? Once I went home, I heard Aunt Ning across the street tell me, "Your mother always said,' If I had known, I wouldn't have let him go!'" ""How much bitterness and sadness are contained in a short sentence! I don't know how many days and nights the mother looked at the distance and looked forward to her son's return! However, this son never came back until his mother left this world.
For this situation, I was confused at first and didn't understand it deeply. In high school, a few years older, I gradually understood. However, depending on others, the economy cannot be independent and has no ambition. Why can't it be realized? I secretly made up my mind and made a vow: once I graduate from college, I will find a job and marry my mother immediately; However, before I graduated from college, my mother left me forever. The ancients said: "The tree wants to be quiet, but the wind will not stop. My son wants to raise and doesn't want to kiss. " This is exactly what I should say. I can't bear to imagine my mother missing her beloved son on her deathbed; When I think about it, my heart will crack and tears will fill my eyes. When I rushed back to Jinan from Beiping and Qingping from Jinan to attend the funeral, I saw my mother's coffin and humble house. I really want to hit a coffin and go underground with my mother. I regret it. I really regret it. I shouldn't have left my mother. No matter what fame, status, happiness and honor in the world, you can't compare with being with your mother, even if you don't know a word, even if you eat "red" all day.
This is my "permanent regret".
Zhu De: Remembering my mother.
I'm sorry to learn that my mother died. I love my mother, especially her hard work all her life. Many things are worth remembering forever.
My family is a tenant farmer. Born in Shaoguan, Guangdong Province, Hakka people moved to Ma 'anchang, Yilong County, Sichuan Province when "Huguang fills Sichuan". For generations, we have cultivated land for landlords, and our families are poor. Our friends are honest, poor and middle peasants.
The mother gave birth to thirteen children. Because the family was poor, they couldn't feed all of them, only eight were left, and the regenerated ones were forced to drown. How sad and helpless this is in my mother's heart! The mother raised eight children by herself. However, most of her time is occupied by housework and farm work, so she can't take care of the children, so she can only let them crawl in the fields.
Mom is a good worker. As long as I can remember, I always get up before dawn. There are more than 20 people in the family. Women cook in shifts, and it's their turn to cook for a year. Mother has cooked the meal, but also has to plant land, grow vegetables, feed pigs, raise silkworms and spin cotton. Because she is tall and strong, she can carry water and dung.
Mother works very hard all day. When I was four or five years old, I naturally helped her. When I was eight or nine years old, I could not only pick and choose, but also farm. I remember when I came home from a private school, I often saw my mother cooking on the stove sweating, so I quietly put away my books, carried water or herded cattle. In some seasons, I study in the morning and farm in the afternoon; When I am busy with farm work, I work in the fields with my mother all day. During this period, my mother taught me a lot of production knowledge.
The life of a tenant's family is naturally hard, but because of her mother's cleverness and ability, she can barely get by. We use tung oil to light a lamp. We eat pea rice, vegetable rice, sweet potato rice and miscellaneous grains rice, and put the oil squeezed from rape in the rice as seasoning. This kind of landlord and rich family don't look at it, but mom can cook delicious meals. Only by catching a good harvest can we sew some new clothes, and the clothes are also produced by ourselves. Mother spun the thread herself, had it woven into cloth and dyed it. We call it "home weaving", which is as thick as copper coins. A suit has been worn by the boss, but it will not be worn out by the second child and the third child.
A hardworking family is regular and organized. My grandfather is a typical farmer in China. At the age of eighty or ninety, he still has to plow the fields. If he didn't plow the fields, he would get sick and work in the fields until shortly before his death. Grandma is the organizer of the family. She manages all production affairs and arranges a year's work on New Year's Eve every year. Every day before dawn, my mother was the first to get up, and then I heard my grandfather get up, and then everyone got out of bed, feeding pigs, chopping wood and carrying water. Mothers can work hard and complain at home. She is very kind. She has never hit us, scolded us or quarreled with anyone. Therefore, although in such a big family, uncles and sisters-in-law, old and young, get along very well. Mother sympathizes with the poor-this is a simple class consciousness. Although she is not rich, she also helps and takes care of her poorer relatives. She is also very economical. Father sometimes smokes dry cigarettes and drinks wine; Mother is in charge of us and won't let us catch a little. My mother's diligent and thrifty living habits and generous and kind attitude have left a deep impression on me so far.
But disaster will not befall the farmers in China, because they are safe. Around the year of Gengzi (1900), there was a severe drought in Sichuan for years, and many farmers were hungry and cold, and they had to "eat without food" in droves. I saw with my own eyes that six or seven hundred farmers in rags and their wives and children were murdered and beaten by the so-called officers and men, and their blood spilled for forty or fifty miles, crying earth-shattering. In such years, my family also suffered more, just eating small leaves and sorghum, and never eating white rice for a whole year. Especially in the period of B Wei Dynasty (1895), the landlord bullied the tenants and wanted to increase the rent on the leased land. Because it was impossible, he took advantage of the New Year's Eve to threaten my family to withdraw rent and force us to move. Under tragic circumstances, our family cried and dispersed all night. Since then, my family has been forced to live in two places. Shortage of manpower, coupled with natural disasters and confiscation of crops, is the most tragic experience of my family. Mother didn't lose heart, but her sympathy for poor farmers and her disgust for those who are rich and heartless are even stronger. My mother's sad story in a few words and many unfair facts I saw with my own eyes inspired me to resist oppression and pursue light in my childhood, and made me determined to find a new life.
I left my mother soon because of my study. I am a child of a tenant farmer's family, and I had no money to study. At that time, the oppression of rural landlords and the brutality of the government forced mother and father to make up their minds to save money and cultivate a scholar to "support the family." I studied in a private school, took part in the imperial examination in the 31st year of Guangxu (1905), and then went to Shunqing and further Chengdu to study. At this time, tuition fees were borrowed from the east and the west, totaling more than 200 yuan, which was not paid off until I later became the head of the national defense brigade.
In the thirty-fourth year of Guangxu (1908), I came back from Chengdu to run a high school in Yilong County and went home to see my mother two or three times a year. At that time, the old and new ideas collided badly. We believe in science and democracy and want to do something in our hometown, so the conservative gentry came out against us. I am determined to leave my hometown without telling my mother and go to Yunnan to join the new army and the League. After I arrived in Yunnan, I learned from my home letter that my mother not only did not object to my moving, but also gave me a lot of comfort.
I have never been home since the year of Xuantongyuan (1909). I picked up my parents in the eighth year of the Republic of China (19 19). But they got used to working and were uncomfortable leaving the land, so they went home. Father died on his way home. Mother went home and continued to work until the end.
China's revolution is moving forward, and so is my thought. When I discovered the correct way of China's revolution, I joined the China * * * Production Party. The great revolution failed, and I completely cut off contact with my family. Mother relies on that 30 mu of land to support the family's life independently. After the Anti-Japanese War, I was able to communicate with my family. My mother knows what I have done, and she is looking forward to the success of China's national liberation. She knows the difficulties of our party and still lives a hard-working peasant life at home. In these seven years, I sent back several hundred yuan and some photos of myself to my mother. Mother is old, but she will miss me forever, just as I will miss her forever. Last year, I received a letter from my nephew, saying, "My grandmother is 85 years old, her spirit is not as healthy as last year, and her diet and daily life are not as good as before. I really hope to see you once. Let's talk for a while and see you later. " But I devoted myself to the national war of resistance and failed to repay my mother's hope.
Mother's greatest feature is that she has never been unemployed in her life. One minute before I was born, my mother was cooking on the stove. Although I am old, I still love production. Last year, another letter from my nephew said: "Grandma is not healthier this year because she is old, but she still works nonstop and especially likes spinning cotton."
I should thank my mother, who taught me the experience of fighting difficulties. I suffered a lot at home, which made me feel no longer difficult and not intimidated by difficulties in my military life and revolutionary life for more than 30 years. My mother gave me a strong body and the habit of hard work, so that I never felt tired.
I should thank my mother, who taught me the knowledge of production and the will of revolution and encouraged me to embark on the road of revolution in the future. On this road, I understand more and more day by day: only this kind of knowledge and this kind of will is the most precious property in the world.
Mom has left me now, and I will never see her again. This kind of sadness is irreversible. Mother is an ordinary person. She is just one of the millions of working people in China, but it is these millions who have created and created the history of China. How can I repay my mother for her kindness? I will continue to be loyal to our nation and people, loyal to the hope of our nation and people-the Chinese Production Party, so that people living with their mothers can live a happy life. This is what I can do, I will do it.
May mother rest in peace underground!