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Grateful corn prose

On windy days, I always like to walk quietly to the fields in the south of the village, watching the corn grow sturdily in the plot and listening to the rustling sound coming from the plot.

That voice, so familiar, so kind, so warm, so beautiful, just like my mother standing in the cornfield, calling my birth name. ...

The mother in my memory is very deep. An old blue coarse cloth with a white towel wrapped around her head and a charitable smile on her face forever ... fixed her mother into a flowing landscape and bloomed in a green cornfield. ...

When I was a child, life at home was very difficult. Every spring, my smart mother plants a small piece of private land in the south of the village with green. In the whole field, there is a strong sticky corn growing in an orderly way. Those corn seeds were brought by my mother from my grandmother's house on foot for dozens of miles. Different kinds of vegetable seedlings are planted between rows of corn. In summer, insects and birds are singing all over the ground, and fruits are fragrant and poetic. The most striking thing is that the vigorous corn seedlings are swaying in the sun, just like a natural green barrier of the land.

Occasionally, this is my mother's busiest day. Finish work in the team every day, don't go home immediately, and don't care about physical fatigue. I plunged into the private residential area, crawled on the ground and carefully drafted it inside. Usually I can't find my mother's shadow when I come home from school, so I cried and ran to the private residential area to call my mother. As soon as the voice just fell, my mother would respond, get out of it, wipe the sweat on her face and throw a guilty smile at me.

The happiest thing is that the sticky corn has grown up. My mother broke some big ones from the private plot, peeled them and cooked them in a pot. The whole family sat around and ate tender corn happily. That taste is really refreshing, strong, mellow and has a long aftertaste. At that time, when I was young, I often didn't have enough to eat one. I wanted to eat another one, but I couldn't find another one in the basket and cried. Often when I cry, my mother seems to conjure up another one from nowhere, which makes me smile through tears.

Mother smiled happily from ear to ear when the corn was harvested. She excitedly broke off the big branches from the straw, carried them home with dung Ji Zi, and dumped them in the yard. In the evening, I called my sister and brother and gathered around the corn pile to peel corn. Mother picked up a big one and peeled it skillfully, leaving only the innermost thin layer of skin, wrapped in corn particles. She said that this can prevent birds and insects from biting and protect the golden color of corn. Then, she twisted several peeled corn cobs together, tied them together and hung them in a ventilated place under the gate. Later, when you are free, drag one from under the door, dig out the particles, pound it into mud in the pier kiln, and steam several flower nests in the dried sweet potato noodles to eat.

At that time, all I ate at home was sweet potato, which was bitter, astringent and sticky. Wo Wo is specially reserved for grandpa and brother, one is the biggest and the other is the smallest. Brothers and sisters are absolutely not allowed to eat, and my father can occasionally taste a little food. It was winter, and when he went out to earn money to make a living, his mother would take out a flower nest, wrap it layer by layer with clean old towels, and then give it to his father to urge him to talk for a long time. My father nodded "hmm" to my mother from time to time. When my mother wasn't looking, he quickly untied the towel, folded off half the flower nest, stuffed it aside for me, and then waved me out to eat, so as not to let my mother see it and cause trouble.

After my father left home, my mother always kept the house in order. Sometimes, at big parties in the city, frugal mothers will stare at the sticks stuck under the door for a while, then drag down some sticks, put them in bamboo baskets and carry them to the party to sell money. Or directly exchange other people's rice, noodles, oil and other physical objects, always thinking of ways to improve the life at home.

It's getting cold, and under the old pagoda tree in front of my house, it has become my mother's affectionate vision. How many nights in the cold winter, my mother will come to the old locust tree alone with cornflower nest in her hand, staring blankly at the distance with tears in her eyes, and sometimes muttering to herself: "I don't know where you are in such a cold day, and I can't give it to you." I can't hold it, I will go home quickly! " Time and time again, I watched my father's concern and mourning turn into a worrying day; Time and again, I stood on the long road to the sky with my prayers and thoughts for my father.

The most unforgettable thing is an incident that happened in the production team that summer.

At that time, the team worked collectively. The whole family except my brother and I have to work in the team every day. Especially when the corn is ripe in summer, all the women who can work in the team will be called by the team leader to weed the corn field. Drilling into the cornfield overhead is stuffy, hot, dirty and tired. But for such hard work, the captain's wife is particularly active, not afraid of hardship and fatigue, and goes with everyone every day. She was chosen as a model worker in the team.

But then one day, neighbor Ju Jie suddenly saw the abnormality of the captain's wife while weeding. Every day after work, her stomach is very bloated, like a few months pregnant. Careful chrysanthemum sister-in-law didn't say anything, just pay attention to her, and soon saw the flaw. It turned out that her stomach was swollen because she stole a stick from her crotch. Sister-in-law Ju told her mother about it, and her mother was shocked and sighed. She whispered, "Call more people to see and let them know what's going on."

Two days later, at noon, my mother finished weeding in the team, and by the way, she went to the reservation to break off some sticky corn and took it home to cook.

After dinner, the family sat together, talking and laughing, sharing the sweet and fragrant sticky corn planted by their mother with relish, when suddenly they heard the door slam open. I saw the captain rushing in with a group of people angrily, and saw that we were eating cooked sticks in our hands. Without saying anything, we "hula" around. The captain pointed his finger at his mother, and several people quickly grabbed his mother's hand. Mother struggled to break free, argued, and loudly questioned why the captain wanted to arrest her. The captain sneered at two channels: "Do you still need to ask? What's the point of playing? Take it away! If you show a movie in the street tonight, be a typical person to rectify the criticism. "

"Dare!" Mother roared without fear, "Oh! Do you suspect that we stole the team's clubs? ! "

"Tell you the truth! Someone reported that you women stole the twigs from the team while mowing the grass. We're on business, and we're here to catch thieves. What else can we say? " The captain growled.

"Hum! Whoever steals a stick in the team knows. Call your wife and ask her face to face. What coward put a stick in his crotch when mowing the grass and stole it from home with a big belly? Ask a woman on the team to mow the grass. Who doesn't know what this coward has done? Lianger (my brother's real name), call your sister-in-law, Aunt Lan and Grandma Guihua together. Don't be afraid, Zhong Er. Bring me the pile of sticks peeled by mother in the yard and show them to the captain. Our baseball bat has the baseball bat in the team, okay? Go! "

My brother ran out quickly.

I hurried to the yard and carried a lot of stick skins on the ground into the house. Father also looked very angry. He took some boiled sticks left in the basket and said angrily to the captain, "Look at this stick." Like a team? "

The captain looked at the stick in the eye basket and was about to speak when suddenly he heard Sister Ju, Aunt Lan and Grandma Osmanthus ... several people came in noisily, their faces turned black and purple, and the flames suddenly decreased. He turned his head and glanced casually at the sticker on the ground. Finally, he squeaked, "Oh! We read it wrong. Everything you eat … is … sticky … sticky. No ... it's not a lack of team. This is a misunderstanding. Go! " Then a wave of his hand, with people despondently left.

Mother gave the captain a bitter "bah" at his embarrassed back, and then smiled. The whole family laughed. At this time, Sister-in-law Zhang Ju, Aunt Lan and Grandma Osmanthus came in to testify ... Several people also laughed.

Mother happily picked up some unfinished cooked sticks in the basket and handed them to several ways: "Try them all, and I have to thank you all!" " "

I can't help but cast an admiring look at my mother. At the critical moment, I was so strong-willed and fearless that I wondered why generate had so much courage. Mother resumed her charitable smile; "Don't do bad things, not afraid of ghosts knocking at the door. I am talking about reason, what is terrible! "

While gnawing at the sticky stick on the table, my father said to my mother, "Fortunately, this stick is sticky, which is different from the stick missing in the team. If it is the same, then it is really in big trouble! "

Mom may have thought of something with dad. She gave a long sigh and said nothing. She restrained the smile on her face, then stood up, put her hands on her chest and bowed deeply to the only sticky corn on the table.

In the later days, my mother specially selected a sticky corn and offered it to the altar. That is to say, from then on, my mother will put a big corn in front of the altar every year, toast and burn incense, and wish the four seasons good weather and abundant crops; Pray for the safety of the whole family and all the best.

Corn, in the mother's mind, has obviously risen to a sacred, has been transformed into a peaceful happiness, has become her spiritual worship, a symbol of good luck.

Grateful corn, in that unforgettable years, nourished the poor days of the whole family and made the taste of life colorful.

Grateful mother, in that unforgettable years, with a pair of weak shoulders, propped up a warm and sunny sky for us.

I often think that a corn is not only a crop growing on the land, but also a green epitome of mother's hard work.

Motherly love is boundless, just like sticky corn planted by my mother in a private school. It is simple, stocky, simple, natural, true and beautiful, with a long aftertaste and in my heart forever stretching. ...

If time flies, the sun and the moon fly, maternal love is the endless source of this long river of years, nourishing my heart.

If the green hills are not old, and the green water is ever flowing, maternal love is an endless song that will accompany me to grow up happily.

Fear of corn made me miss more. Fear of mother is a kind of love and responsibility, fear of mother is a kind of courage and strength, and it is an unyielding and strong defense of dignity from mother's bones.

Corn nourished my childhood; My mother taught me to be a man on the road of life.

How many years have passed, I have walked too much and tasted too much delicious food, which is far worse than eating sticky corn cooked by my mother. Every time I look back, I feel deeply and have a taste in my heart.

When the corn standing in the field began to show its plump head in a mature posture; When the farmers were full of joy, they began to roll up the banner of harvest. Under the blue sky, leisurely white clouds, and scorching sun, my supreme and beloved mother, the figure who crawled and worked hard in the corn field, is gone forever. It will always be fixed in my memory and become a warm landscape, which makes me look through the autumn water in my sleep and touch my skirt with tears. ...

To this day, I still have a different complex about corn. Whenever I wander in the green fields and see the lush corn everywhere, I will naturally think of my late mother and the long years when my mother crawled in that cornfield. ...