At about 8 o'clock every night, an old man in rags who looks calm always comes to the yard to collect junk on time, and then leaves silently, never late or early.
When I first met the old man, he was making a scene with the doorman. He wanted to come in to collect garbage, but the doorman wouldn't let him, saying it was the county compound and it was night. The old man said with a thick neck, "I make a living by picking up some junk with my own hands." Why not let me? " Think I'm a thief? ! "The old man is very thin and the veins stood out on his neck. His strands of white hair stand out in the light.
At that time, I thought the old man was a bit old-fashioned and unreasonable, but a few days later I found myself wrong.
Later, I don't know how the guard let the old man in. Every day, the old man comes to the garbage bin in the compound to rummage through the garbage. But unlike other garbage collectors, he always comes after dark, never comes in during the day, and he collects garbage and does nothing but garbage in autumn. For the residents of the compound who had suffered from "theft", this is really an amazing discovery. Later, we learned a sad story about him: the old man is a retired worker in a state-owned factory. Because his wife has been sick for many years, the old couple are not less angry with their daughter-in-law. The stubborn old man doesn't want to live in a shabby house with his wife. Due to the closure of the original unit, he was aloof and arrogant. In order to collect enough money for his wife to take medicine, he had to carry a snakeskin bag to pick up garbage.
After learning the hidden story, everyone cried, and from then on, they showed more sympathy and respect for him. Once, my neighbor's uncle was worried that he wouldn't find anything at night, so he handed him a bag of good oranges. The old man paused, then muttered to himself, "I am a rag picker, not a beggar." Clap your hands, get up and leave with a wrinkled snakeskin bag. He didn't come again for the next few days.
Uncle was silent. A few days later, the old man finally appeared beside the garbage dump in the compound. When he left, uncle went back to the house and took out a hammer and nailed two nails in the big tree next to the garbage. The next evening, uncle hung some wrapped food on the nail above. Some old books and newspapers are tied together and hung on the nails below. The next day, the old garbage man came. He took two food bags hanging on the tree. He treats them as rubbish discarded by others.
Later, many residents in the compound knew the secret, so there were often many bulging food bags on the nails on the trees. The doorman is also very tacit. At night, except for the elderly, other scavengers were turned away. Every night when the old man comes in, he always rummages in the garbage before he gets those food bags. According to Xiao Wang, who often comes home late, he once cried when he saw the old man holding those food bags.
Dignity is priceless! In the face of other people's fragile dignity, sometimes silent concern is worth a thousand words, such as two nails nailed by uncle in a tree.
Missing in autumn
Shi Tiesheng
My temper became furious after my legs were paralyzed. Looking at the array, I will suddenly smash the glass in front of me; Listening to the sweet songs on the radio, I will slam what I have on the walls around me. My mother hid out quietly and listened to my movements secretly where I couldn't see them. When everything was calm again, she came in quietly, her eyes were red and she looked at me. "I heard that the flowers in Beihai are in bloom, so I'll push you for a walk." She always said that. Mother likes flowers, but the flowers she helped plant have died since my leg was paralyzed. "No, I'm not going!" I slapped these hateful legs hard and shouted, "What am I living for?" "My mother jumped on me, grabbed my hand, held back her crying and said," We are together, live a good life ... "
But I never knew that her illness had reached that stage. Later, my sister told me that her liver often hurts and she can't sleep all night.
That day, I was sitting alone in the house, watching the leaves falling outside the window. Mother came in and stood at the window: "The chrysanthemums in Beihai are in bloom. I'll push you to have a look. " There was a pleading expression on her gaunt face. "When?" "Tomorrow, if you like?" She said. She was overjoyed by my answer. "Well, tomorrow." I said. She was so happy that she sat down for a while and stood up for a while: "Then you should get ready quickly." "Oh, don't bother? A few steps, what is there to prepare! " She smiled, sat down beside me and said, "After watching the chrysanthemums, let's go to imitation food. When you were a child, you liked pea yellow there. Remember that time I took you to Beihai? You said Yang Shuhua was a caterpillar, running around and squashing her feet ... "She suddenly stopped talking. Words like "run" and "walk". She is more sensitive than me. She went out quietly again.
She's out. Never came back.
She was still vomiting blood when the neighbors carried her to the car. I didn't expect her to be so ill. Watching the tricycle go away, I never thought it would be forever.
When the neighbor's boy went to see her behind my back, she was breathing hard, like her hard life. I was told that her last words before she passed out were: "My sick son and my underage daughter ..."
It's autumn again, and my sister pushes me to Beihai to see chrysanthemums. Yellow flowers are elegant, white flowers are noble, purple flowers are warm and deep, and the autumn wind is blooming brilliantly. I know what my mother didn't finish. So is my sister. We are together, we should live a good life. ...
Sweet soil
Huang Fei
The northwest wind roared and the snow rolled on the road. Although it is early spring, the weather is still very cold.
She, leaning against a poplar tree at the school gate, was as motionless as snow sculpture.
The sudden ringing of the bell. Her dim eyes sparkled with longing.
A group of children, singing, walked out of the school gate without her son; Another group of children talked and laughed and set foot on the road without their son ... The figure was sparse, scattered and gone.
The creaking iron gate locked the silent campus.
She was dizzy and could hardly stand up. She stumbled over and held her hands tightly on the iron fence.
"For what?" An old man in a message came out with a democratic face.
"bright! My little light! " Like breathing, like crying.
"School is over."
"Know the way ..." She murmured in a low voice with glassy eyes, lowered her head feebly, slowly released her hand, and took out a candy wrapped tightly with body temperature from the pocket of a long-breasted cotton-padded jacket: "Uncle, please ... give it to the child."
"What's your name?"
"Wang Xiaoliang."
"What grade and class?"
"Today, just after my eighth birthday."
"I asked what grade and class!" The old man is obviously a little impatient.
"Oh ... maybe ..." She shook her head again.
The old man looked at the neurotic woman strangely. "Who the hell are you?"
What he answered was the tears in his eyes and the back that hobbled away. The old man sighed in confusion and seemed to understand something.
In the afternoon, this bag of candy finally reached Wang Xiaoliang in Class Two, Grade Two. The child was very surprised. I haven't tasted this favorite toffee for a long time. His little hand rubbed his clothes back and forth, and after a little thought, he gave one to each child, two to his close friends and five to the teacher respectfully. "Eat!" He shouted and jumped happily, even throwing off the prostitute with his mouth open. The students shared their joy with him in laughter, and only the teacher quietly turned his back. ...
After school, Xiao Liang was still immersed in joy and skipped home. Suddenly, he stopped and felt the candy left in his pocket, and a sense of fear came upon him. He seemed to see it again: now mother raised her slender eyebrows and whispered something in her father's ear. Dad grabbed a stick and came up to him angrily. He looked blankly, not knowing what to do. He patted his pocket hard. No, it all looks bulging at first glance. He lowered his head, sucked his fingers, thought for a long time, and looked around. He quickly buried the sugar in the snowdrift by the side of the road and specially inserted a small stick.
Xiao Liang slept soundly and sweetly that night. He dreamed that his old mother came back with a smile, and now her mother is hanging her head and leaving. I'm so happy.
Next day, Xiao got up early. As usual, he emptied and rinsed the bedpans of the whole family first, then washed rice, added water, poked fire, sat in the pan, and then slipped out with a cold steamed bread on his back. He wants to digest his candy quickly. I don't want to. Overnight, the ground temperature rose, the ice and snow melted, syrup and snow water mixed together and penetrated into the earth. On the wet ground, there are some crumpled candy paper and small sticks as marks.
Xiao Liang blinked and couldn't help rolling down tears. He squatted on the ground sadly and looked blankly. After a while, I couldn't help but stretch out my frozen little finger and pick up some dirt and put it on the tip of my tongue-
He smiled again: That piece of soil belongs to My Sweetie.