I am a girl who was raised poor by my grandparents.

Walking on the street, among thousands of people. I'm still the same person who doesn't look outstanding and dresses simply. The one that no one would notice if it fell into a pit.

Every time I go shopping with my best friend, she always makes a joke: I go out with you countless times, and you always wear these shoes and carry the same bag. I only wear these two pieces of clothing back and forth, and the color is too old. You won’t be afraid of seeing ghosts every time you go out without makeup.

Every time she said this, I would put my arm around her back, then strangle her neck while she was not paying attention, and whisper into her ear: What do girls know? She is a natural beauty. , there is no need to apply those rouge powder, luxurious skin packaging.

She pushed my arm away with both hands, crying and begging: Please spare me, you are the most beautiful, naturally beautiful. I know I said the wrong thing. I just let go of my arm and looked at her embarrassed look as she was bullied by me. I proudly pointed at her and cursed: You are such a bitch. If you hadn't said this earlier, it would have been fine.

She still gave me a vicious look and muttered: I’m just telling the truth, people nowadays don’t like to hear the truth.

Although I said this, when I looked at those graceful and sexy beauties with red lips on the street, a trace of inferiority still flashed in my eyes. I also tried to wear sexy clothes, painted flaming red lips, and permed my hair in big waves, and walked down the street. But I always felt like a monster. Every pair of eyes on the street looked at me mockingly. No matter how much she dresses up, she still lacks a kind of temperament and intellectual beauty.

When I was a child, I was assigned to study in a big city because of my schooling. It was as glorious as studying abroad now. And my grandparents became my personal nannies.

The high consumption in big cities always exceeds the imagination of us rural people. The four of us were squeezed into a small southern room only a few dozen meters away. It was dark and humid, and there was no sunlight all year round. If four people stay in the house at the same time, two people must get on the kang to have room for turnover.

Due to the passage of time, the putty in the cracks on the wall has also been wiped out by us in large pieces. Every day I sit on the kang and finish my meal, and wipe the rice grains on the table with a rag. I started doing my homework with a book on my head, and a dim light bulb above my head. Because I was afraid of wasting electricity, my grandfather changed it to the one with the smallest wattage. I often complained to them because I couldn't read the words clearly.

My grandfather relied on selling melon seeds to support our family’s life. The sun was about to set and night began to fall. Grandpa always rushed home exhausted, and grandma quickly took over the work in her hands and took a broom to sweep away the dust and fatigue all over his body. At this time, my brother and I would jump forward happily and look at grandpa's pocket. He would always squint his eyes and cheerfully take out a few candies or other goodies he had exchanged.

After dinner, grandma would fry melon seeds in a big iron pot, and the dust in the coal would fall everywhere. The occasional smoke from the stove spread across the room, making the whole room look smoky, and the roof was black and dirty. Grandma always covered some utensils with newspapers. At this time I ran out to play, but I could still smell the strong smell of carbon smoke.

The school stipulates that students must wear school uniforms from Monday to Friday. During make-up classes on Saturdays, everyone wears plain clothes. I am the only one who is still wearing a dusty and dirty school uniform, and some classmates will ask: Why do you keep wearing your school uniform? How long has it been since you changed your clothes? Then there will be comments from classmates behind the scenes. In their eyes, I am a casual and sloppy girl.

Faced with such words, I was speechless. Because I didn’t wear anything other than my school uniform, I could only wipe the dirt on my school uniform with a towel on Sunday and put it in front of the stove to dry. Because of poverty, I have no choice but to use this method!

Grandma’s ideas are old-fashioned. She would never dress me up in a fancy way. Instead, she cut my hair shorter than a boy’s. At that time, I especially liked long hair, as did all the girls in the city. Tie two small ponytails. But grandma said: You have to put your studies first. Keeping your hair that long will only waste time on grooming.

In school, my classmates didn’t want to play with me. They disliked me for not having braids and for being sloppily dressed. He often pointed at my old shoes and said: She is a child from the countryside, don’t play with her. When doing exercises and lining up, I always stood in the boys' team. They said that I looked like a boy, so I should stand in the boys' team. Over time, I became accustomed to it.

Before the Chinese New Year, my grandma finally bought two gray casual tops for my brother and me, mixed with red ones. Although it is not the girl fan I expected, it still makes me very happy. In the words of grandma: Clothes of this color can be worn by boys and girls, and your younger brother can wear them when you are younger. I just silently compromised.

I was wearing new clothes bought by my grandma during the make-up class, so I deliberately raised my head high and read the text aloud. My voice was twice as loud as usual, as if I wanted to attract all the students’ attention. On me. Just when I was reading with great enthusiasm, my deskmate tugged on my sleeve and whispered in my ear: Deskmate, why are you wearing "old clothes" to school.

I didn’t make much of a reaction at the time, because subconsciously I didn’t know what “old clothes” meant. But it sounded from her words that this was not a piece of clothing worth showing off. I returned home angrily and forced my grandma to tell the truth: It turned out that those clothes were clothes that others had worn and were unwanted, and they were put up for sale at a cheap price. Grandma saw that the clothes were very new, so she couldn't resist the vendor's trick and bought one.

My self-esteem seemed to be hurt all of a sudden. My grandma made me lose face. I was furious at her: If you can’t afford new ones, don’t buy them. Let your classmates see how happy I am to laugh at you. The corners of her mouth twitched in grievance and she didn't say a word, but I still saw her old eyes filled with cloudy tears. I know she must have been hurt by my words.

Thinking about how kind my grandma is to me on weekdays, I suddenly felt very upset about what I blurted out. Although the family was financially strapped, I was a picky eater and didn't like noodles, so she would bake pancakes for me. Even if the neighbors gave me fruits or something like that, she wouldn't bear to eat them and would always leave them to us. We eat fresh meals every day, but she always soaks the leftover vegetable rice in boiled water, so her stomach always hurts, and she sometimes tosses and turns in the middle of the night.

My grandma was an illiterate woman, but she taught me how to memorize multiplication and division formulas before I went to school. She taught me how to be a good person. My grandma was rather feudal and would not let me play with boys since I was a child. She said that girls should love themselves. Ever since I was a kid, I would blush when I saw a boy and dare not speak. I didn’t even dare to strike up a conversation, so I was relatively ignorant throughout my youth.

After graduating from rural areas, children will get married and have children. After countless blind dates with no results, I finally took over the title of the oldest leftover girl in the village. As for the various reasons for failed blind dates: introversion and loneliness. The thinking is backward and conservative. She would never allow me to come home too late, let alone stay up all night. So I didn't have any physical contact with boys.

Maybe no one will believe that when I met my current husband, I took the initiative to pursue him. I never thought that the magic of love can make people obsessed and unable to extricate themselves, so I would boldly pursue love. The moment I fell in love with him, I said to my grandma: What should I do if I fall in love with a boy that I have never been so excited about in more than 20 years? She condemned: Silly boy, if you like it, go for it. What you like is what grandma likes.

At the moment we were about to get married, I had a happy smile on my face. Grandma was jumping up and down happily like a child because she knew that I finally married the person I wanted to marry. The moment I stepped into the wedding car, she tremblingly held her husband’s hand and choked out: I gave a complete She will be left to you from now on. If she doesn't do something well, you can criticize her, educate her, blame her, but please don't hurt her... Grandma actually had a lot more to say, but she was still so choked up that she couldn't speak any more. I swallowed my tears hard, hugged her silently and couldn't bear to let go. I understood the concern and reluctance in her heart.

Now I have a child and am busy with work. But I didn’t have time to go back and visit my old grandparents. In the days and nights we ignored, they were aging second by second, tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick.

I suddenly remembered a passage in Guo Jingming's "May the Wind Cut the Dust": There are many sad things in life, among which the most unbearable thing is that our parents are in a place where we can't see, and then After countless ticks passed, they left us calmly and silently. Leaving us with an eternal rainy day of farewell soaked in tears.

No matter how far you go, how big your career is, or which city you go to, you must never forget the way home. While we are still young and our families are still healthy, find time to go home often.