A summary of WeChat articles about Mother's Day, the official account of Mother's Day WeChat WeChat pushes the American language.

A summary of WeChat articles about Mother's Day, the official account of Mother's Day WeChat WeChat pushes the American language.

Mother's Day WeChat article -2065 438+07 Mother's Day, Sunday, there was no invigilation task, and the quality inspection papers of Xiangxi No.3 Middle School could not be corrected for the time being, so I went back to my hometown by car.

I arrived in the country around ten o'clock, just in time for the performance in the country. However, there are not as many people who buy things as there are people who sell things, which is a far cry from the busy countryside during the Spring Festival. Walking down the street, I bought 20 eggs and 30 eggs from two old ladies respectively.

"Just in time, we are getting ready for breakfast." My father was very happy to see me, and it was almost a month since I went home last time.

I said I had eaten and put the garbage I brought from the city in the refrigerator. My mother thinks I won't eat, and I'm not going to eat. By the way, she criticized my dad: Are you hungry after eating such a big sweet potato this morning?

I said, you eat, I watch the shop.

Mother disdains: What's the matter? Everyone who arrived at the scene went to work.

I asked my mother to find a jar to hold my father's favorite liqueur. Mom said, don't buy it at the end of the fight. Five yuan a catty, very expensive. If you like hot weather, I will do it. Father doesn't like it: Well, your cooking is delicious in the street?

After breakfast, my mother will go to the field to cut the cowpea cucumber.

She took out a bundle of bamboo sticks and a bundle of miscellaneous sticks from the woodshed at home, and the eldest sister-in-law tied them together, which was a big bundle. I want to recite, but my mother won't: don't pickle clothes. Besides, you haven't practiced kung fu for a long time. Can you recite it? I am funny: how can I grow up and can't carry a bundle of firewood? Mother and sister-in-law carried firewood on my back, and we ran along the road to the ground. When we arrived at mom's shop, mom said, I'm going to change a pair of shoes. Do you want to change them? I said no, I will go to the field first. After a long walk, I heard my mother shout behind me: the road next to Jane's house is so narrow, you should be careful! Don't crush my corn seedlings when carrying the basket!

A few minutes later, my mother arrived in the field. Mom said she forgot to bring the rope. I looked around and saw a piece of cloth hanging on my mother's basket. I tore it off and divided it into three parts. The calculation is enough.

"First, help the cowpea to insert bamboo strips, and then insert the cucumber with a miscellaneous wooden pole."

"Two cowpeas are inserted into three."

"Why not put three cowpeas in three bowls?"

"It was originally three, and one was not long."

"Remember to separate the forks as far as possible when you tie them, otherwise the cowpea leaves will be together and you will not see the sun that bears cowpea."

Mom said and gave me a demonstration.

"It seems that there is not much space and it will take a long time." My mother and I posted it continuously. In less than an hour, my back ached and I thought that I would never bargain with others again when I bought food. When I got to the fence of the butcher shop, my mother said, don't put three in, put one in every tree. With the fence, the cowpea will not fall when the wind blows.

"Have you seen my melon seedlings?" After inserting cowpea seedlings, I inserted cucumber seedlings. There are only five or six cucumbers. Insert it with miscellaneous wood, not tie it. Mom found the seedlings in the basket and chose the corner. She dug out the nest with a hoe first, then carefully put the seedlings in, cultivated the soil, and planted a tree in a few minutes.

"What are you going to do if you eat all of them?"

"Eat can sell, seed money is not to make up? Besides, when your sister comes back during the Chinese New Year, she wants to eat. "

Mother is 79 years old this year.

She was born in Yuxi, a small town, a family in western Hunan. When I was a child, I would spend some time in that small town every winter vacation. My grandfather's family is a middle peasant. My grandmother died when my mother was a teenager. My mother interrupted her high school studies and went back to her hometown to help my grandfather bring up two younger brothers and a younger sister. Later, she married a remote Miao village and worked there as a teacher for decades. Unfortunately, shortly after her husband died, she remarried with her young daughter to a Chinese-speaking place where my sister and I lived.

According to her, she started as a substitute teacher in Hakka village, but later she stopped working when there were many children at home. She married her eldest daughter to the local area and always saw her daughter; She sent her two daughters to school and they became teachers. She turned two small, damp huts in her house into big buildings.

In high school, we often questioned her love with her father. My mother is in high school and my father can't read. How can we be a family? Mom won't tell us.

In the winter of 20 15, both sister-in-law and sister-in-law went out to work, leaving only two elderly people in their 80s. It happened that my father burned his feet while getting a haircut at the barber shop.

In the evening, my father looks after the shop and my mother looks after the house. Every weekend, I will go home to accompany my mother.

Mother is knitting her broom without exception.

Weaving brooms is a broken job.

"Slag kung fu is too much! Don't do it next year! " I listen to my mother complain every year, but the next year they still do. It turns out that weaving brooms is my father's business, and my father never lets my mother get involved. However, in 20 15, my father was all thumbs and all the work fell on my mother.

In spring, my father sowed plantagenet seeds in the field, so that it could be harvested in summer. Not to mention the hard work of fertilizing and watering along the way, and there is no need to worry about fine weather and rain. It is very difficult to dry the broom. Dry the grass and shake off the seeds. The weather in the mountains is changeable. It will be sunny for a while, cloudy and heavy rain for a while. Father wants to move in and out of bundles of grass by himself, turn the grass over while it is dark and shake off the grass seeds. Under the scorching sun, my father's big drops of sweat fell off, and in a short time, my whole back was soaked.

Father's practice makes perfect and accumulates experience. He dried the broom grass in batches, scattered it on the wires in the backyard and connected it with plastic paper, so it didn't have to be taken back when it rained. Grandson asked him, Grandma, what are you doing with that plastic paper? Father said, I'm tidying up the broom.

The broom won't get wet in the rain. When wet, it is easy to be moldy and broken, and it has no weaving value. When the broom grass is dry, you can weave it by shaking the seeds.

Father put the broom in the room and tidied it up neatly. Upstairs and downstairs at home, the fresh smell of sunshine and the fragrance of broom are pervasive.

Mother should carefully level every grass with a knife, including the trunk and branches and leaves. It will take her a few minutes to shave every hair. Then tie a pile of thin iron wires one by one and then tie them together. This is just the basis for making brooms. The handle and branches are tightly inlaid with a bamboo. This process is never done by my mother at night. The bamboo strips that tied the broom were cut at my sister's house, and there was a large bamboo forest behind her yard. As soon as spring arrived, large pieces of bamboo shoots rushed out to watch the fun, and many villagers came to her house to pull out bamboo shoots. Mom said, pull it out, pull it out, and want something fresh.

One cold winter night, my mother talked to me while working, mostly because my mother asked me to listen. Mom doesn't keep warm, so I gather around the warm stove: Not cold? Mom said that there is fire in the hands of doing things.

Once, my father didn't know why he made my mother angry. In the evening, my mother began to tell me stories about her and her father.

Someone in the village's mother introduced it.

Your uncle was there the day we met.

Your uncle still doesn't like me and thinks I have your sister.

What does your father have? No father, no mother, two stone houses.

Before, your father had a girl he liked. Didn't people think he was poor and married someone else?

There are people who like me. They are literate, can sing folk songs, can write poems and have a good temper. I want to find a place where your sister can speak Chinese, read and write.

Mother chattered away.

My mother came to Hakka for my sister to have a good reading environment, but how can things in the world be perfect? My sister dropped out of junior high school because several sisters are studying.

Your father is good at everything except being angry. You never know when he will get angry. Sometimes I really regret marrying here, but think about it, it is very satisfying to have you two sisters.

The girl who likes her father?

Okay, give it back to the girl? The old lady is long gone.

The young man who likes you?

Alas, it's gone. Never married, childless, sinful! Mother was absorbed in the work at hand and didn't look up.

A woman lives her whole life, and whoever she marries is her whole life. For a long time, mother added.

The good-natured young man who sings folk songs and writes poems may be the most romantic memory in his mother's heart.

No matter how fast my mother knits, she knits at most two brooms a day, each of which costs ten yuan. Every year, they weave as many as seventy or eighty, and as few as fifty or sixty. It's better than growing corn, which is one yuan a catty. Do you think it's worth it? Farmers' accounts never count as labor value.

Both are rural old ladies, and my mother is very different from my cat mother-in-law. Mom put the money in her pocket and dad asked her for a penny. Nekobaa didn't need a penny when he was alive. Grandpa Cat had the final say in all daily necessities. "Once I went to Jishou, Shi Min to see my niece, and you gave me forty dollars. When I come back, I'll pay you back forty dollars. " Nekobaa said.

Every time I go home, I will give my father money as usual. My dad said, don't send it, your mother will confiscate it when she finds out. After there was an ATM in the village, I said to my dad, otherwise, I'll get you a card and put your private money in. Mom smiled: Can you read? Can I use a card? I'm not in charge of withdrawing money, okay?

My mother and father meet every year. Every time I go home, my mother nags me, and there is no one left. There are only a handful of old ladies in the village who are older than their mothers. In the year when the production team was decentralized, my mother began to do business while farming. After my sister got married, she had to do business while farming. As she always said, she was so busy that her ass smoked. The two daughters are studying, and the family is financially strapped. Every year during the Spring Festival, my mother sends a catty of sugar to several old ladies in the village, which costs several tens of dollars. In primary school, people from Guizhou came to beg from time to time. If they eat with my family, my parents will let them eat with us. Before leaving, I put a bowl of corn and two sweet potatoes in their pockets.

All the contracted land in my family has been converted from farmland to forests; Nearby, my mother won't let me run wild. My family's responsibility field is flat and wide, close to the ditch and the road, and there is no labor in the right place at the right time. Everyone nearby wants to plant, but mother doesn't want any: it's a pity that such a good field is abandoned. It is said that one year the county used it to sow seeds, and two families had a small dispute over planting my field and went to the village to argue. The village cadres called their mother to go, but her mother refused: what kind of love to plant, what kind of county funding.

Every time I go home and live upstairs, my mother lives downstairs. She woke me up downstairs before six o'clock in the morning. It was still dark when I went downstairs. My mother said that I got up at four o'clock. I said, why do you get up so early? Mom said, I'm afraid you'll miss the bus into town and be late for work. I said, I have a cell phone alarm clock, so I won't be late. Next time, you can sleep in peace. Mom said, get up at four o'clock next time and call my name downstairs. In winter, before dawn at six o'clock, my mother took me to the station with a flashlight. When the flashlight flashed, I was in front and my mother was behind. When the bus left, she went home hunched, the flashlight flashed, I was in the warm carriage, and my mother was outside the cold carriage.

"You won't change your shoes, see you a foot mud! Go to the river dam to wash! " Mother picked up the basket and was ready to go back.

Sure enough, as my mother said, it doesn't look difficult, and it takes time to do it. We set up a shelf on a small piece of land for nearly two hours.

My mother is short and her basket is big. My mother hobbled in a half-foot corn field with a basket in her hand. She is in no hurry to leave. She looked at the corn seedling like her own child. The sky is blue, the land is yellow, the corn seedlings are green, and mother's hat is red. If only this beautiful picture could be solidified.

Before walking to the foundation of my sister's house, my mother sighed: the foundation has been laid, and now it has become someone else's parking lot.

My old mother, wearing a bright red hat, looks like a fashionable old lady in the city. My sister gave birth to a baby three years ago. I went to see the moon with her. I asked her: How much is it? She said, I am old and can pay a lot of money? 2000 yuan My sister and I both laughed at her scheming, obviously giving 4000 yuan, deliberately underreporting, for fear that we would be too worried. Every time we buy her clothes, she says, don't buy them, they can't be worn out. Turn around and put on new clothes. Once I went home during the winter vacation and bought a new pair of shoes for my father. My mother said, didn't you take mine? I said, it's in my pocket. How could it be gone? Mom showed disappointment, and I quickly said, remember to bring it next time. Neither my sister nor I want to buy shoes for my mother. She is very picky about shoes. You buy her a pair of shoes from 300 yuan, but she doesn't like those from 30 yuan, so she sells them to you in the countryside.

When I hurriedly wrote these words on the keyboard, Mother's Day on 20 16 will say goodbye to us.

With mother around, we dare not grow old.

Mother's Day WeChat article My mother has always been frugal and always reluctant to call her hometown in the country. In her words, the telephone bill is high, and you have to pay the landline fee if you don't call, which is too wasteful. So every time I call, I have to ask my neighbors to call my mother. Then, it always hurts to hear my mother coming breathlessly to listen to my phone call. I'm going to give my mother a mobile phone, not for anything else, but because my mother can take my calls calmly and chat with me at any time. I worked hard in the outside city and didn't go home much for a year.

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On my mother's sixtieth birthday, I gave her a mobile phone and said, Mom, this mobile phone is not expensive, so don't bother the neighbors in the future. I don't want you to run panting all the time. You can call me at any time, regardless of the phone bill.

Perhaps the mother is getting older, or perhaps the mother is concerned about her children too much. She didn't say much, but kept nagging: This mobile phone is so beautiful that it cost a lot of money … but I can't dial the phone number and I can't remember it.

I set my mobile phone number and told my mother that it was simple. Call me, just press 1 ... so my mother pressed 1. When my appearance was displayed on my mother's mobile phone, my mother was as happy as a child: this mobile phone is so advanced that I can actually see your appearance.

That night, I received several calls from my mother, and the mobile phone showed that my mother was smiling.

The next day, my mother found me with a dignified face and said, I still don't want this mobile phone. It's expensive to call you long distance. I heard that it's more than one yuan a minute. It turned out that last night, when my mother was chatting with several old people in the village, she learned that her videophone was expensive, and it was even more expensive if it was a long distance call. My mother also knows that I will pay the phone bill secretly and won't let her know. I smiled and explained: this mobile phone is monthly, not expensive, and it costs 50 yuan a month. Mom muttered: 600 yuan a year. Why don't I install a landline phone? I said, I can find you at any time when you are chatting in the neighbor's house, and I can find you at any time when you are growing vegetables in the garden. Give you a mobile phone so that we can find you. Mother stopped biting. I know, my mother is used to frugality in life. I hate that I can't treat one yuan as ten yuan. If I don't get rid of this knot in her heart, I'm afraid this mobile phone, my mother, will be unhappy. I had a brainwave and said, in fact, I have a way to get you to contact me without calling, and it's very cheap. Mother came over and said with great interest, what is it? I said: You can send me text messages, one is only ten cents a month 10 yuan. Mom is a little embarrassed: but I can't write any words, and I didn't read much when I was a child. I said: this is easy. I will make up what you usually want to say in advance and save it in your mobile phone. Then, if you want to say so, send it to me. So, teach my mother to learn to send text messages. Mother, after all, is old. Although she has been nodding, her eyes are clearly written with disappointment. ...

My mother and I edited this short message together:

Your father and I are in good health, don't worry.

Son, did you get on the train?

Son, are you home yet?

How was work, son?

Is the daughter-in-law in good health How's your job?

Does grandson study well?

………

In my mother's story, I saved every word in my mother's mobile phone. Finally, there were more than 50 messages. Except for the first sentence, my mother greeted me, my children and my wife. Even the first sentence is that I don't want my son not to worry about my family and them. That day, I hid in a deserted place, tears streaming down my face. My mother is just an ordinary mother who cares about her children all her life. However, in this world, that kind of love can be compared with this simple maternal love.

When she left, her mother waved her mobile phone and said, "I'm sending a message. I will send you a message. Hey, save money. " Shortly after boarding the train, the mobile phone rang. At first glance, it turned out to be a message from my mother. Open it, only to find that it is blank. A minute later, my mother's text message came again. This time it said, Son, did you get on the train? First I smiled, and then my heart warmed up. I'll answer at once, mom, I've got on the bus. Don't worry. In the meantime, I called back. On the other end of the phone, my mother looked puzzled: it's the first time I sent it, I'm nervous, there's nothing, can't you receive it? Now, I can really send text messages. As soon as I got home, my mother's short message came again: Son, are you home? I'll reply immediately: please rest assured that I have arrived home.

In this way, every three to five, the mother's text message arrived as scheduled. Every time I answer like this: Our family is fine, our work is smooth, and your grandson has made progress in his studies ... "

I know that sitting under the old jujube tree in front of the door, the old mother looked at her son's message of peace, and it must be that silent smile. ...

In May this year, on my 38th birthday, my mobile phone suddenly rang. I opened it and found a message from my mother. After reading it again, I was surprised to find that two numbers appeared in this short message: 38. I know my mother remembers my birthday, and there may be no relevant words in the short message I left her. My mother must have pondered for a long time before outputting this digital message. I know, my mother wants to say: son, you are 38 years old, happy birthday! I know, mom wants to say, your father and I are fine, don't worry. ...

Reading these two simple sentences of my mother, I unconsciously read a face of tears. ...