I was born in the early 1980s. It was the early days of reform and opening up, and the country's economy was not very good, especially in rural areas. Food could only be subsistence, but white flour was in short supply. I heard from my mother that when I was a child, my family would spare me the white flour steamed buns and they would eat stick noodles or black flour steamed buns instead.
One early autumn night, with the cry of a baby, a little girl was born, and that was me. In my impression, my grandfather was from the older generation who favored boys over girls, while my grandmother was kind, smart, and good-tempered. Before I was 2 and a half years old, I was the treasure of my parents. I vaguely remember that in the cold winter, there was a small heater in the house. My mother was sitting by the stove collecting the soles of her shoes. My father held me up and lifted me up. The happy laughter of a little girl and the laughter of my parents intertwined to form a picture. A heart-warming picture...
Because my grandparents are relatively traditional rural people, they have always wanted a grandson, but the family planning policy does not allow a second child, so my sister gave birth secretly, and my brother was also fined a lot of money. When I was less than 2 years old, my mother got pregnant again. This time the village doctor took a pulse and said it was a boy, and the family was very happy.
