Over the years, from birth to schooling, to studying abroad, working, and starting a family, my mother’s heart has been broken. To be honest, I didn’t understand many things until I became a mother. N

Over the years, from birth to schooling, to studying abroad, working, and starting a family, my mother’s heart has been broken. To be honest, I didn’t understand many things until I became a mother. Now, I am sending my children to school, and I can’t help but recall the time when my mother sent me to school.

At that time, I was studying in the county town. After one Sunday, I had to go back to school. My mother said she wanted to buy me some clothes. However, to buy clothes, I have to go to a small town eight miles away from home. Moreover, the direction of the town is opposite to the county seat. My mother rode a bicycle and led me to the small town. After buying clothes, I could have biked back to the county seat alone, but my mother was afraid that I was not familiar with the road from the small town to the county seat, so she said she would send me on her way.

The August sun releases abundant energy, and it is noon. There are few people on the road, there is no wind, and the large tracts of corn and large poplar trees on the roadside stand still. Only cicadas were shouting about the heat at the top of their lungs on the tree, and the sound added to the irritating and sultry heat. The large asphalt road seems to be melting away due to the sun. In some places, the color is much darker than usual. When the bicycle tires run over it, it becomes a bit sticky and makes the sound of the tape being ripped off. My mother and I ride a bicycle each. , I was riding a new ladies' 26 bicycle, and my mother was riding an old-fashioned weighted bicycle. I turned around to look at my mother from time to time. My mother had gained weight and it was very difficult to ride the bike. Sweat blurred my mother's vision from time to time. After riding a few laps, you need to wipe it with your sleeves.

I saw that my mother was very tired, so she stopped and said, "Mom, please go back. I can reach the county seat by myself." The mother also stopped to take a breath, but insisted: "No, it's still far away, and you haven't walked through it yet, let's go, ride on, let's go, let's go." After saying that, I wiped my sweat and got on the car and walked to the front. I clearly saw that a large area on the back of my mother's clothes became very dark.

We hurried forward again. When we reached another small town only a few miles away from the county seat, my mother said, "You must be hungry. Let's eat some food before we leave." I was really hungry. It was already past lunch time and I had traveled such a long way. There was a restaurant on the side of the road. My mother went to order food, and I rested in front of the fan next to the dining table. After finishing the report, my mother came back and sat at the table. Although she had washed her face, her face was still red. She lifted the sweaty clothes on her back with her hands and panted.

After a while, the meal came, and the boss said: "Hey, a bowl of plain noodles--" Then he put the tempting bowl of noodles on the table, and my mother looked at me. He pushed and said: "Eat, girl, you're so hungry. It's already past dinner time." A bowl of plain noodles may seem too cheap and ordinary today. But, in my memory, that was the first time I went to a restaurant to eat. At that time, we called it a canteen. At that time, the dining room, the dining table, the pattern on the rice bowl, the finely chopped green onion sprinkled on the surface, and the oil floating in the soup were all novel and extraordinary attractive to me. I took out two pairs of chopsticks and handed one pair to my mother. My mother took the chopsticks and put them back, saying, "You can eat, girl, I'm not hungry." I took a few bites and it was really delicious. Watching my mother use it beside me She looked at me eating with loving eyes, then pushed the bowl over and said, "Take a bite, Mom, try it." My mother refused to take a bite and insisted that she was not hungry. I said, "Really?" "Well, I'm really not hungry. You eat quickly and go to school after eating. You can't be late. I'll be home in a while. I'll make something by myself without delay." I finished the bowl of noodles in my mother's soft and warm eyes.

After coming out of the cafeteria, it was still a few miles away from the county seat. I told my mother that I was familiar with this place and could find the school. The mother agreed to go back, and after giving some more instructions, the mother got on the car, pedaled hard, faced the scorching sun, and went back hungry.

Now, every time I think of my mother’s exhausted back, my heart aches uncontrollably. I hate myself countless times. Why was I so ignorant at that time? How could I believe that my mother-in-law gave me away? After dozens of miles, she finally returned hungry, and there was still more than thirty miles of road waiting for her ahead.

So, I told myself in my heart that if I made money, I would treat my mother to a big meal. Later, after I started working, I also treated my mother to meals several times. However, I knew that a table full of delicacies would not be worth it. Mother’s bowl of plain noodles is so affectionate!

I am not in a good mood tonight, and I miss my mother very much. The night before my birthday, my mother called me and told me to eat an egg. It was cold and I had to protect my hands. I still have the folk remedies I found last year... Listening to the familiar voice on the receiver, I felt so happy. . My mother didn't seem to notice my growth. No matter whether I was in the south or the north, thousands of miles away, I never got out of my mother's care. However, as for me, just a week later, I actually forgot my mother's birthday. The contrast reflected by this little thing made me feel ashamed. So, how can I repay my mother for her kindness in raising me? Over the years, my mother has worked hard for me and our three siblings, and my hair has turned into white hair. At the moment when I am typing these words, my calloused hands may still be sewing a small cotton-padded jacket for my grandson for the winter, and my cloudy eyes may still be looking forward to the sycamore tree in front of the window for her daughter who is married far away to open the door and come in to shout. She calls her mom.

Mother, your kindness will be hard to repay for your daughter in this life!