Years

When the coldest wind blows to the village where I live in a year, most of the festivals called Nian come. The Spring Festival is the most important thing for the villagers to wait for a long time, and no one will be indifferent to it. No matter whether the harvest is good or bad this year, the whole village is always jubilant during the Spring Festival. When you walk to the street, no matter who you meet, you will smile on your face, greet each other and celebrate the new year. When I was a child, I had been looking forward to covering the village and courtyard where I lived quietly and covering every room and corner of my home since Lunar December 23. In fact, since that day, the year has begun to come slowly. It first fell on the low pomegranate tree in the yard. There are my little lanterns hanging there. In summer, the pomegranate swaggered on the tree with a grin. As soon as autumn comes, it leaves quietly. As a nostalgia for the pomegranate, when the year is coming, I usually hang this little lantern on the branches. I can’t repay the hard work of pomegranate trees at all. Next year, it will fall on the neat firewood outside the kitchen. My father carefully sorted the firewood accumulated in the year by axe, chopped enough firewood for the Spring Festival in the yard, and piled the firewood under the windowsill of the kitchen, then bake a pig head on the fire, remove the fur on it, and stew a pot of pork on New Year’s Eve. It will fall to the corners of the room in the new year. We brothers and sisters have their own division of labor. I am responsible for cleaning the dust on the roof. My father tied a broom firmly to a bamboo pole and solemnly told me to clean the roofs of each room. I would do my job well with inexplicable joy. The roof was covered with dust, and there might be little things such as geeks hidden there. I drove them away gently without hurting them. They also knew what to do. They shook their tails to say goodbye to me and found another place, they are more familiar with the terrain in the room than I am. The roof walls are clean, and they are waiting for the coming of Nian. Most days before the year, the cold wind would attack our village, blocking the old people in the village in their rooms and preventing them from walking around in the street. Grandfather was such an old man. He didn’t like the cold wind, which would make him cough. When he coughed, his gray beard would tremble without dignity. At this time, he could only hold the stove and heat the last time of his long life. Grandfather didn’t say a word. He held a long cigarette bag in his hand, breathing the smoke silently towards the stove, as if deliberately letting the cold know that he was still strong. At that time, the snow would fall on the eve of the new year. Snowflakes fell on the streets and alleys, on the front and back of the House, on piles of firewood in the yard. In the heavy snow, we welcome the coming of the new year. On New Year’s Eve, I followed my father and went to my elder family’s home to pay New Year’s greetings with snow. My father asked me to serve a bowl of dumplings for everyone to taste. After worshiping my family, my father would never forget another important figure. He was a distant elder of my mother who had never married in his whole life and lived alone in a shabby house outside the village. When my mother was there, she always helps her old Elder. However, the young mother unfortunately left early. When she left, she specially told her father to help him. On New Year’s Eve, my father always asked me to follow my sister and send him a large bowl of dumplings. In my impression, he was a black and thin old man with white hair and camel back. There were two stone rooms with a pile of firewood in the middle. The smoke from the firewood crowded the room. When I got home, my father would ask us something about him. My sister said, the room was full of smoke, which made us always want to cry. All the relatives that should be worshipped had been worshipped, and all the things that should be done had been done, so the family began to eat New Year’s Eve dinner around the fire. Grandfather can drink some wine. He took out the porcelain jug, filled it with wine, and baked it on the fire. Grandfather, who looked quiet, concentrated on heating his wine, as if he was baking his lonely life. I knew that when grandfather picked up the glass, he began to enjoy the warmest happy moment of his year. After so many years, I finally realized that the greatest happiness of old people like grandfather who lived in the countryside for a long time was not how much money or how many delicious food they had in their later years, as long as there are children and grandchildren around, as long as there is a pot of hot wine, they will be satisfied. In the year, it was once again reduced to the small village where I lived, but I was no longer there. Grandfather left, father had become grandfather, but I was not around him, who would chop a lot of firewood for him in the clean yard, who would warm a pot of hot wine for him on New Year’s Eve. I hope the winter will not be so cold. If it is cold, I hope I will warm this remote cold winter with missing. Like (prose editor: Jiangnan wind) change the way to continue to stay with this city I went out at 6 o’clock in the morning and came back at almost 8 o’clock in the evening. From beginning to end, I only welcomed myself with silence; Since I went to college, on weekends… [Original essay] string words Since winter, the sky is dry and the snow is misty. The whole earth is desolate and empty. Whether your mood is like a year, or… Forever military dream Forever military Dream (Ma Xiaochun, Kangle county, Gansu province) memories are like meteors, passing through the unmarked and blurred eyes, and the outline gradually… Spring rain I like spring rain like everything on the Earth. Just after the new year, the sky began to rain. I really like the spring in Jiangnan… Plucked the snowflakes of Dreams (modified) Near the new year, the first snow fell. I was surprised to read a long scroll in the morning, the white one is snow, and the gray one is tree… Self The fashion is transient, and the style is permanent. Things that can shine on others may not be put here. In…