Melancholy like wind light cloud light

I remember that year of the college entrance examination, I messed up the exam. When I got the transcript, my heart was like falling off the cliff. At the moment I stepped into the house, my mother was cooking. I threw myself into my mother’s arms, and tears burst down. Then I burst into tears. My mother didn’t say a word, I did not move until I cried. I will never forget this scene, not because of the college entrance examination, but because of the seemingly weak and actually strong arms. Over the years, those who could give me arms walked away slowly, and what they left could only be learned to bear slowly. The boy who was resting in my arms quietly and unconsciously, become the arms of others. Happiness and misfortune come so suddenly. Life is like this. It will not give you any preparation. Mountains and rains are coming all over the building. What you can do is to hold up an umbrella to cover those who need it, even if this umbrella is so fragile. When you wake up at a certain moment or in a certain morning and suddenly find that you have to bear it, you may be reluctant, but secretly tell yourself that you are strong and frank. We are all ordinary. When someone is more ordinary than you, you will become a model for those people, blind and firm. Maybe one day, walking on the street alone, looking at the steps coming and going, suddenly you don’t know where you are, as if you can’t find your own figure in such a big city, and you come here sadly and inexplicably, I really wanted to cry, but it seemed that nothing had happened the next day. In Yu Hua’s novel, there is a book “live”. The protagonist of the story is Fugui, the son of a rich family, but he is very gambling. Finally one day, all his family property was ruined, including the old house left by my ancestors, it was as poor as washing and homeless overnight. My father was also depressed because of him, and my mother couldn’t afford to get sick. He had to leave with his son and daughter. While on his way to seek medical treatment for his mother, he was arrested as a young man. After returning home many years later, I found that my mother had passed away for many years, and my wife was struggling to raise two children. However, this was just the beginning of the tragedy. My son died of excessive blood loss when he donated blood to the county magistrate’s wife, and then his wife also left, only a deaf-mute daughter was left to accompany the old cow. Seeing life getting better, my daughter married a dutiful man and gave birth to a son, living a steady life. But the fate was so cruel that his daughter and son-in-law also left him. He raised his grandson alone, and of course the cow. But at the end of the story, his grandson also died, the cow also left, leaving only the lonely back, bearing silently. His close relatives left one by one. Along the way, he learned to bear and live simply for living. I remember a passage like this: life is the field of life, and every time the suffering planted will grow into a hope, they are our hands. Living is not for anything else, but for life itself. We are so ordinary, maybe we are not as strong as wealth, and life will continue as always, although troubles are always more than happiness, maybe, we can also sow a seed of hope in our own field with our hands. I remember there is a paragraph in the writer Wang Wenhua’s evaluation of Jimmy: Jimmy is a good person. Although he has suffered a lot, he still thinks hard and lives with heart. Depression is melancholy, but it is so melancholy that the clouds and the wind are light, rather than crying to grab the ground. Maybe we are the good people who live with our heart and lose our warm arms one day, but we can also feel depressed as if the clouds are light and the wind is light. Maybe this is life.

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