The piece of buckwheat flowers on the roadside with a faint fragrance

My hometown is in a small rural village in southern Hunan. Every year in autumn, when I look around, the fields are green and the red stems are covered with small white flowers, which is particularly beautiful. The wind blows gently, and a faint fragrance floats. I pick one up and put it in my mouth, chew it, the taste is sour and sweet, it feels very good!

Now every time I go home, I will go with my mother to the fields where we often went when I was a child. Picking peppers and digging sweet potatoes will pass by the ridge of the field. I will always pay attention to the buckwheat on the field ridge to see if it is still there. There is a story from my childhood there!

My parents are both out-and-out farmers. Although there is not much land, in order to increase the harvest, my parents work in the fields all year round. When spring comes, they start plowing the ground and planting soybeans. After the soybeans are harvested, they start planting radishes and wheat. After planting the wheat, they start planning for the next spring... But no matter how busy they are, they can always seize every opportunity. Spend time with me to educate me.

When I was a child, I had relatively good grades and was ranked among the top two in my class of more than 500 students in our township central primary school. So in the year I graduated from primary school, I was admitted to the best junior high school in the county as I wished. . I am very happy, but also a little sad because the county town is too far away from home and I can no longer go home every day as usual.

Because the school management is very strict, in addition to attending classes every day, students have to participate in morning and evening self-study, and even make-up classes on Saturdays. There are only 4 days of vacation at the end of each month. We call it " Monthly leave. "So we all look forward to the monthly leave, because during the monthly leave we can go home and see my mother.

In my impression, my mother didn’t talk much, but every time she said something, I would always remember it deeply. It was my first monthly vacation after the start of school, probably in September. As soon as I put down my schoolbag and returned home, my mother told me that the peppers in the field were ripe. She wanted to go with me to collect the peppers in the field and use them. The needles are strung one by one with thread and dried in the sun, and then made into dried pepper skewers, so that you can eat dried peppers when the peppers are out of the market in winter. Because the food in our hometown is spicy, and the conditions at home are not good, we can’t eat much meat in a year, so the overall taste is also strong, and there is naturally no shortage of peppers, so every household will plant a lot of peppers and string up whatever they can’t eat. Dry it in the sun and hang it at the door or on the stove to look prosperous.

I was very happy when I heard that my mother wanted to take me to the fields. I put down my schoolbag and jumped up and down with my mother. I walked in front empty-handed, and my mother walked behind with a basket. The mother still didn't say much, but I could feel that she was very happy to see her son.

When we passed the familiar field ridge, my mother suddenly stopped. I also looked back and saw a field of green buckwheat, with red stems covered with small white flowers, and occasionally bees flying around on it. Just when I was about to ask my mother to leave quickly, my mother stopped me. Mother said, Qiangzi, come here and see how good this piece of buckwheat is growing! When you were young, your parents liked to put you and your brother on the roots of the fields when they were working in the fields. At that time, you were still young and you often picked flowers to play with. Buckwheat is grown by your uncle's family to feed pigs. Once, because you and your brother stayed on the field ridge for too long, you and your brother got into a fight. As a result, your uncle's buckwheat suffered damage and was stepped on by you. What a big piece. As a result, I couldn't help but slap you hard that time. I still blame myself mentally to this day. I don't know if you remember it. I shook my head and said that I was young and naughty at that time. If you hadn't said that today, I would have no impression. My mother said to me again, "Qiangzi, you have grown up, and today my mother will tell you a story about buckwheat."

In your grandmother’s village, there was a family who managed to educate a college student. Later, one summer vacation, their son came back from college, and his father wanted to take him to the fields to plant sweet potatoes, but he passed a field of buckwheat on the roadside.

Suddenly, the son began to say to his father in proficient Mandarin, "Dad, dad, let's play a riddle, shall we?"

"It has red stems and white flowers. Others keep it at home all year round, but it can only be harvested once a year, and it can only be kept in the field! Guess what this is?" His father was very angry after hearing what his son said. He picked up a hoe and was about to hit him! As a result, the son was frightened when his father swung the hoe, and ran away, shouting loudly in dialect, "Someone is coming, someone is coming, beat him, dad beat me, buckwheat field" You're going to kill someone!" After hearing this, his father put down the hoe in his hand and started laughing, saying no, you haven't become bad, you still remember that you are from here! I thought that after studying abroad for a few days, you would forget where you were from and you wouldn’t even be able to speak the dialect at home! If you really can't even speak the dialect, I will beat you to death today, lest others say I have raised a white-eyed wolf!

I couldn’t help but laugh when I heard this, but my mother didn’t laugh. Instead, she told me very seriously that others said that one year is from a native country, two years is from a foreign country, and three years and four years do not remember the father. mother! Qiang Zai, if you are admitted to college one day, you must never forget where you are from, lest your parents will be laughed at. When you return to your hometown, speak your home dialect and don’t dress too special, lest your neighbors say you have forgotten your roots! I nodded desperately and said that I remembered my mother, and I was definitely not that kind of person.

Now, more than 20 years have passed since this happened, but every time I pass by Xixi Wetland Park, I see the green buckwheat on the roadside and the small white flowers blooming on the red stalks. , I can't help but think of the scene at that time, my mother and what she once said to me. As a human being, you must never forget your roots!

My mother is old. She no longer likes long-distance car rides. Besides, she can’t speak Mandarin, so she doesn’t like the hustle and bustle of the city. She began to like the quietness of the countryside and tending to the land she had worked on all her life. Every time I go back, she takes me to the fields to see the eggplants, peanuts, corns and soybeans she has grown, and sometimes she even lets me take some with me. Although I have told her many times not to plant, she always said that she is used to it and can't take any time off. Besides, what are farmers doing if they don't plant? When I get too old and can no longer plant, I will stop planting...

Although I have always missed my mother’s kindness to me, and my mother has always wanted me to go back and see her more often, but in the end she was busy with work. , every time we can't get what we want, even if we go back, we can only get together for a short time. Over the years, my mother gradually became a little nagging. From time to time, she said that she missed her grandson and wanted me to take it back to her! My son grew up in the city and I wanted to take him to see the fields I planted when I was a child and the camellia trees and chestnut trees I planted there! There is also the piece of buckwheat on the field ridge where we used to play when we were children. Now it is said that no one has raised pigs in the past few years, and no one has harvested the buckwheat, but it still grows so lushly...

I don’t I wonder if my mother will think of me every time she passes by the green buckwheat field and sees the buckwheat field with red stalks covered with small white flowers, and the story she told me when I was a child!

My mother is just one of thousands of Chinese mothers. They love their children deeply, but they have to keep this love deep in their hearts for the sake of their children's future. With the development of the times, rural areas will eventually disappear from the memory of history. I don’t know if anyone will think of the buckwheat on the roadside that my mother and I often passed by in the future.

Now, I will often take my son to Xixi Wetland Park to look at the buckwheat on the roadside to see how they are growing recently and whether there are small white flowers blooming on the red stems. , are there any bees flying over it? Sometimes, I would also tell him the story about the father and son in the buckwheat field. Maybe he might not understand it now because he is still young, but I think he will understand it one day!

When I looked again for the buckwheat on the roadside, I found that the wind had begun to blow. Waves of light fragrance floated over, which made me feel very comfortable and intoxicated. My son was still running happily on the road. But I was already crying in the wind!