Since this time, my mother has deliberately picked the front well next to the school to fetch water; every day he is on the way to take the students home; when he delivers the public meals, he cooks the best food and delivers it in a celadon bowl.
The mother fell in love with the father
and this love, to the death, the
mother stood in the snow waiting for the return of the father, until he fell ill. After getting up, he stubbornly packed his things: I went to the county to find him. But fell halfway again. During the confusion, I heard the sound of my father reading a book in a dream. This is the father who heard the news and ran back privately, and the sound of reading aloud sounded again: Our mood is like everything, full of new hope. Outside the classroom, the two meet again.
At the end of the film, according to the mother's wishes, the father was carried from the hospital all the way back to the village. People scramble to carry, this is my father's former student.
On this ordinary mountain road leading from the county town to the village, my father came back again, back to the village where there are people who have listened to him studying for 40 years. Just like every time he came back, his mother was in front of him, and there was hope in his eyes. A twitching heart stumbles along the winding mountain road. The mother took her son to the dilapidated classroom, sat in the first sitting position, and said calmly: Did you hear that? To build a new school. The next day, the mother heard the sound of reading again, and the son gave a lesson to the children in the classroom, standing where his father stood all his life, teaching the text that his father taught on the first day of school. The mother trotted over and burst into tears.
I was thinking, what kind of love can make this miss so strong that it can't be added. In that barren age, they were friends with each other. Without too much language modification, I hold my hand indifferently and grow old with my son. As her father said, she remembered the way her mother stood at the door holding the door frame, like a painting that she could not forget for many years. The dilapidated primary school is the background of this painting. It is tied to the father's concern and the mother's waiting. So in the flying catkins all over the mountains and plains, under the shroud of the melodious flute, a delicate red cloth fell on this painting, leaving boundless thoughts and eternal echoes.
I suddenly miss my grandma
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