Stories about rural children’s lives

The colorful rural life lingers in my mind all the time. I picked a few "little flowers" of rural life and gave them to you, my dear friends.

Miss Qiu came quietly to the world with light steps. She walked through the sorghum field, and the sorghum ears in the field were so heavy that they bent the branches; she walked through the peanut field, and the peanut leaves turned yellow. In this harvest season, who can not be happy! On this day, grandma, grandpa, mother and I came to the field to pull peanuts. Although I am small, I have a lot of strength. I came to a peanut, grabbed the peanut leaf with both hands and pulled it up hard. With a "swish" sound, I pulled the peanut out of the ground. Although I got a lot of soil on my hands, this was my first achievement. ! There was also a peanut that was particularly difficult to pull out. I tried my best to suck it, and with a "pop" sound, I grabbed the pulled out peanut with both hands and fell "on all fours." Suddenly, I was covered in mud and turned into a clay figure. . The setting sun shone on the quiet river. Each of us held a big armful of peanuts. My mother and I looked at each other with an indescribable joy in our hearts.

Walking on the path home with a smile on his face. I walked home singing a little song and picked a sorghum ear. When grandpa saw it, dark clouds suddenly formed on his smiling face. He looked at me and said, "You city kids just don't know how to cherish food. Even though this is just a sorghum ear, it took more than half a year of hard work to grow it." Come out. How could you do this? ..." The more my grandfather spoke, the more uncomfortable I felt. It's all my fault. I silently condemned myself in my heart that I shouldn't have picked off the sorghum ears. We talk about cherishing food every day, why are we just saying it verbally? I quickly admitted my mistake to my grandfather, and my grandfather forgave me. I understand that some things cannot just be said in words, they should be put into action.

The countryside records our laughter and rain, and our childhood.