Who can help me find an article or picture about maternal love that can express my feelings for my mother?

There is a kind of love in the world, the most selfless, giving everything to you; the greatest, your life will start from here; the noblest, never requiring anything in return for your dedication; the purest, all So natural and sincere, without any flaws. This is maternal love. I would like to write this article in memory of my deceased mother. ——Inscription? I am the oldest son in my family, and my eldest brother is twenty-three years older than me. My parents raised six children including us, male and female, in their lifetime. Except for my second brother who died young, there are three boys and two girls left. My father was fifty and my mother was forty-seven when I was born. They were both very old and sickly. My mother's physical condition was particularly poor. Due to her lack of physical strength, it was difficult to hold me. Later, I heard from adults that my mother would always put me in her armpit and walk half-carrying and half-clamping me. When I first remembered, my mother's waist was bent. I asked her why, and my mother said it was painful. Yes, it was painful. Later, I became wiser and realized that it was a hunchback caused by lumbar disc herniation and years of fatigue. ? My mother has been sick all year round. Overwork and malnutrition have made her physically worse and thinner. She has to hunch her body every day and endure the pain while doing housework in obscurity. Wrinkles quietly covered her aging face, making her mother's appearance disproportionate to her age, and her teeth were falling out one after another. I remember that when I was little, I would always lie on my mother’s back and pull out her gray hair, until one day I couldn’t pull it out anymore, because gradually the number of white hairs had exceeded that of black hairs. ? My fate is very good, I have survived two disasters. My eldest brother said that I was very cute when I was chubby. When I was two years old, I had a serious illness and I never gained weight again. The reason was that I had an enlarged spleen, and because I was too young and the medical conditions at that time were poor, it was not easy to treat. Later, an old lady from a neighboring village used folk remedies to cure me. My mother is kind-hearted and knows how to repay her kindness. She allows me to call her grandma, and she often takes grandma home to live with her for a few days. Grandma is getting older, and her son is not her biological son, but the adopted child of someone else. He is not very filial to grandma, so grandma is happy to live in our home, and my mother also supports grandma like her own mother. This has been going on for many years. ? Another time was the summer when my second brother passed away. My second brother and his friends took me to take a bath. After all, they were only teenagers and they were all children. As a result, when I was leaving after taking a shower, I was forgotten and left on the edge of the pond. I didn't know why I fell into the water in a daze, but was later found and rescued. ? I remember it very early. In 1974, when I was 4 years old, the biggest thing in our family's history happened at home. My second brother is a decade older than me and is also a Pig. He was 16 years old that year. I can no longer remember his appearance. People say that I look most like him, and he is the physically best one among the four of us brothers. My second brother’s nickname is “Jiujiu” and he is a very naughty child. He is very famous, and everyone in Sanli and Wu Village here knows him. So when I was older, when I went out to play, strangers would ask me if I was the younger brother of Jiujiang. ? It was a turbulent era. Children did not go to school seriously, and the teachers did not care. In fact, they could not control it. The second brother and his friends often went out to hunt birds, and went to orchards and vegetable gardens to steal delicious fruits, pears and dates. , they often smoke Laohan cigarettes together behind the adults’ backs. My second brother liked me the most and often took me with him when we went out to play. I still vaguely remember the time when he and his neighbor friends stole corn cobs from the production team and cooked them at the neighbor's house. It was because of their "misdeeds" that he later caused a "catastrophe" and eventually led to tragedy. ? The cause of the incident was that the second brother and his friends stole the school books to roll old cigarettes and smoke them. The teacher in charge at that time was a young man from our village and he was a complete fool. In fact, this is not a big deal, and it is inevitable for children to be naughty and cause trouble, but he comes to our house every day to find my mother. My mother has a very strong character and is a rural woman who has never studied. Our family has the highest seniority in the village, and our parents are both honest and upright people. They have never been told "no" by anyone in their lives. My mother felt that she could not save her face, as if the second brother had done something unforgivable, so she put pressure on the second brother. My second brother was also a unique child with a strong temper. Later, he died of arsenic. I was right in front of me at that time, thirty-four years ago, and I still vividly remember the scene. I remember everything. My second brother hugged me when he was dying, and he was smiling bitterly.

At the age of 16, the same age as Hua, a fresh life ended like this, and the whole family was devastated. ? Now every time during festivals and festivals, I always kowtow three times respectfully in front of my second brother’s grave. Later, when my son grew up and went with me, I also asked him to kowtow to the second uncle. It’s just that I have never told him these things. I want to wait until he is a little older to tell him, so that he will know that the second uncle has not done anything heinous and is not looking for a short-term life. ? That fool is still a complete fool. I didn’t say anything good about him in the village. I didn’t say that because I had a grudge against him. I don’t know why such a scum deserves to be a role model. It’s really misleading. I have known him since I was a child. When I was in the fourth grade of elementary school, I studied with him for a year. One time I deliberately made trouble with a rebellious mentality, and what I got was a slap in the face. Although I don't read much, I still know how to pay attention to etiquette and understand the principle of "once a teacher, always a father". There are dozens of teachers who have taught me. Some of them have been good to me, and some have been bad to me. I respect them all when I see them. This idiot alone made me dismissive. ? Since then, my mother has become much older all of a sudden, and my father is also a little worried about this matter. Every day during the day, my father and brothers and sisters would go to the fields or go to school, while my mother and I were the only ones left at home. My mother often sat on the kang in a daze and was often absent-minded when doing things. She often had needles pricking her hands while doing needlework. My mother was too strong. She never cried loudly, but always cried quietly when no one was around. I asked her: Mom, what’s wrong with you? She always said it was nothing. My father, brothers and sisters don’t know these things, and even now I haven’t told them. Only my mother and I know. I was too young at the time and didn’t understand anything. I gradually realized these things as I grew up. This has been going on for many years, mother is fine! ? Many people may think that my second brother was forced to death by his mother. I don’t know what my father thought, because I was really too young when my father died and I was not sensible at all. But from my elder brother’s words later, I had a vague feeling that at least that’s what he thought. "Tiger's poison cannot eat its seeds"! Even if my mother is responsible for my second brother's death, I can still understand her deeply. One can imagine the pressure my mother was under at that time. ? Mother makes a beautiful fire, and pays attention to three puffs of fire before cooking. It means burning wheat straw under the pot, burning three handfuls of grass on the front, and then burning three handfuls of grass on the back until it is cooked. It is both beautiful and delicious. When a girl here gets married, her mother's family will burn several large baskets of fire and bring them to the groom's house. This is just a cosmetic thing, but there are very few people who can make a good fire. So in the twelfth lunar month of winter, when there were many weddings and happy events, my mother became a celebrity, and families planning weddings came to her for help. ? But at home, I have never had a good roast cooked by my mother, because every time my mother baked roasted roast, it was always bulging on both sides and hollow in the middle. I asked my mother: You are the most famous master in our village, why do you always burn like this? The mother replied: Making fire requires hard dough. Mom is old and has no strength to knead the dough. I asked: So how come you have the strength to rub it in someone else’s house? My mother got angry and scolded: "They are celebrating a happy event. If you don't do it well, won't you be embarrassing them?" I was scared and quickly shut my mouth. ? In the years after my eldest brother married his sister-in-law, my two sisters also got married one after another, leaving only my parents, my third brother, and me in the family. In the autumn of 1982, with the further deepening of the reforms initiated by the Third Plenary Session of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of China, the production team was disbanded under the general climate of rural household responsibility. Because my father was getting older, he suddenly became idle and had nothing to do, and he was depressed for a while. In the early morning of the 16th day of the twelfth lunar month of that year, my father died suddenly. The cause of death was a geriatric disease such as cerebral hemorrhage or myocardial infarction. This was a disaster for our family. I was 12 years old and my third brother was 19 years old. My mother was still so strong and didn't shed a single tear. When my father's coffin was carried out, my mother couldn't bear it anymore and fainted with a loud cry. My mother has a good reputation in the village and has a high seniority. She is the ancestor of our village with the surname Zang. In those days, our family members came and went in an endless stream, all coming to pay their respects and express condolences to my mother. ? The pillar of support is gone, but life still has to go on. My mother wiped away her tears and led us two brothers to continue living our lives. My mother is too old and is no longer the age to make a career, my brother is just a big kid, and I am just a confused boy who doesn’t know what to do. Therefore, all the big and small things in the family have to wait for the older child to do it. The next year, I entered junior high school, but I always felt worried and powerless.

Since then, I have never listened carefully to a class, and my academic performance has plummeted, basically from a top student to a third-rate student. In 1985, I was in the third grade of junior high school. On New Year's Day in 1986, I was still half a year away from graduating from junior high school. I knew that there was no hope of studying. In order to reduce some of the burden on my family, I had no choice but to drop out of school and go home to work in farming. This ended the life of me. A brief student period. ? In the spring of 1986, the eldest child, my third brother, married my third sister-in-law when he was 23 years old. After a while, we separated and lived alone, and the burden of the family naturally fell on the shoulders of a 16-year-old man like me. From then on, I learned what it means to support a family. At that time, I went out to do small jobs. If I had moved here, I might not be able to do anything now. But at that time, I was too young, couldn’t do anything, and I didn’t have enough strength to do the work. There are many people who took pity on me and helped me. I have never forgotten them until now. There are still many good people in this world! ? In 1987, I was 17 years old. That winter, my mother fell ill and had difficulty urinating for several days. As a 17-year-old child, I don’t have so much care, and I feel more helpless and helpless. I had no choice but to find my two brothers and take my mother to the hospital. The doctor diagnosed that my mother suffered from cerebral thrombosis. In those days, I stayed with my mother in the hospital every day, and sometimes my brothers and sisters came to replace me. After some days, my mother's condition improved. For convenience, we took my mother home for care and treatment. At that time, my mother had constipation and poor urination, and needed help with defecation and catheterization. This kind of thing was quite inconvenient for a boy. Sisters-in-law would not do this kind of thing, so the two sisters took turns. Go home and help me serve my mother. At that time, I firmly believed in the saying "After marrying a daughter-in-law, you forget your mother." ? By the first month of the second year, my mother's condition improved somewhat. Since serving patients is not my job as a boy, and it is inconvenient for my sisters to travel back and forth, and I have to work to earn money to support myself, my eldest sister moved my mother back home to take care of her. Later, after two months of careful care by my eldest sister, my mother's condition improved greatly and she was able to walk around on her own. I was very happy and thought, as long as my mother is alive, I don’t want her to do anything, as long as I can see her when I go home every day. Later, my mother stayed at the third brother's house for a few days and then moved to the second sister's house. Until one day, my mother suddenly died. It was already afternoon when she was brought home, and her mother was already unconscious. She held my hand and wanted to say something, but she never said it. Her weather-beaten face was no longer alive at all. Just like this, my mother kept looking at me helplessly, with muddy tears in her eyes. ? The next day, when the sun rose, my mother left without leaving a word, quietly, quietly. When she left, her eyes were open, and there were tears of despair in her dry eyes, showing regret and helplessness. The adults said that she was worried about me and died with her eyes in peace. I cried loudly, heartbreakingly, but my mother could no longer hear my voice. By the time my mother’s funeral was held on the third day, I didn’t even shed a single tear. I will never forget that gloomy day, April 28 of the lunar calendar in 1988. ?My mother’s life was a rough one, full of hardships and ill-fated fate. She worked hard for this family all her life, worked hard without complaint, dedicated herself to it, and died. She never enjoyed a single day of happiness, and poverty and illness always plagued her. Mother, you brought my son into this world. You broke my heart for me, and you left this world with regret and concern. You gave birth to me and raised me, but you didn't let me give you a chance to enjoy it for a day. It’s been 20 years and I still can’t forget it. I miss you, my great mother. ?

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