In winter, I often wait at the school gate for the teacher to open the door. It was still dark and the school was not far from my home. The reason why I went so early was because my mother got up very early. I often get up when she washes rice and cooks and cooks by the stove. The yellow flame illuminates my face like a layer of wax oil. Such a scene is probably one of the few scenes in my memory that can be called "warm" in those never-ending cold winds.
Work is very hard. Her fingers were burned many times and her nails were almost falling off. But her salary does not match her labor, and the family is still poor. I often think that the reason why my mother was so irritable was because of this-she tossed and turned in her life, but still did not change much. Life is too exaggerated. Cruel to those who beg, and cruel to those who struggle with it. It is this that caused my lack of maternal love in childhood. I love my mother, but I am also afraid of her.
I met a spring-like teacher in my school. When I wrote to her, I respected her as "Miss Zhong" and silently regarded her as a mother in my heart. In my colorful but taciturn childhood, she gave me another fairy tale.
I have been to the teachers' dormitory where she lives. There are many books there, and I have the honor to read them. In her cozy room, I walked into a real book palace for the first time, where I saw the gray-haired Cinderella turn into a beautiful princess to participate in the prince’s ball; I want to remind Snow White Don’t have that old woman’s apple, she was made by the sinister and vicious queen; I have also been to many strange countries with Gulliver... Love books, love stories, and want to be a writer. All her dreams are It sprouted from her house.
When she cooked me noodles,Apart from reading books, I also do other things, such as spelling English words, playing with the weird-shaped stones her son picked up, and observing the appearance of a small peach tree swaying in the wind. The kitchen disturbs her, or does nothing, sits quietly. With her, I gained a kind of freedom that I could not get in my own home.
Suddenly thank you for this lovely wind. The memories it brings have given me the courage and strength to move forward bravely in the coming winter.
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