That winter, my grandmother died and my father was relieved of his job. This is a day when it never rains but it pours. I want to go back to my hometown in Xuzhou with my father from Beijing. I went to Xuzhou to see my father, saw the messy things in the yard, and thought of my grandmother. I can't help crying. Father said, "Well, don't be sad, but God never shuts one door but he opens another!" " "
Going home to sell pawns, my father lost money; Borrowing money for the funeral again. Things at home are very bleak these days, partly because of the funeral and partly because my father is idle. After the funeral, my father will go to Nanjing to work, and I will go back to Beijing to study. Let's go together.
In Nanjing, a friend made an appointment to go sightseeing and stayed for one day. The next morning, I will cross the river to Pukou and get on the bus in the afternoon. Because my father is busy, he has decided not to send it, and found a familiar waiter in the hotel to accompany him. He repeatedly told the waiter to be very careful. But he finally worried that the waiter was not suitable; I hesitated for a moment. In fact, I was twenty years old that year, and I have traveled to and from Beijing two or three times, so it doesn't matter. He hesitated for a while and finally decided to take me personally. I repeatedly advised him not to go; He just said, "Never mind, they can't walk well!"
We crossed the river and entered the station. I bought a ticket and he was busy looking after the luggage. There is too much luggage, so you have to tip the porter to go. He is busy bargaining with them again. I was really smart at that time, and I always thought he was going to interrupt myself because he didn't speak well, but he finally settled the price; Walk me to the car. He chose a chair near the door for me; I paved the seat with the purple coat he made for me. He told me to be careful on the road, to be alert at night and not to catch a cold. And let the waiter take good care of me. I laughed at his pedantry in my mind; They only know money, they just ask for it! Can't people my age take care of themselves? I said, "Dad, you go." He looked out of the car and said, "I'll buy some oranges." You stay here and don't walk around. "I think there are some vendors waiting for customers outside the fence on the platform over there. To get to the platform over there, you have to cross the railway, jump down and climb up. Father is a fat man, so it is naturally more troublesome to walk there. I was going to go, but he refused, so I had to let him go. It was not difficult to see him limping to the railway and leaning down slowly, wearing a small black hat, a big black jacket and a dark blue cotton robe. But it is not easy for him to climb the platform over there when he crosses the railway. He climbed up with both hands, and his feet shrank again; His fat body leans slightly to the left, showing the appearance of hard work. At this time, I saw his back, and tears soon flowed down. I quickly dried my tears. I'm afraid he will see it, and I'm afraid others will see it. When I looked out again, he had come back with the bright red orange in his arms. When crossing the railway, he first scattered oranges on the ground, climbed down slowly, then picked them up and left. When I arrived here, I hurried to help him. He and I walked to the front of the car and put oranges on my fur coat. So I dived into the dirt on my clothes and felt very relaxed. After a while, he said, "I'm leaving. Write it there! " "I watched him go out. He took a few steps, turned around and saw me and said, "Go in, there's no one inside." When his back was mixed with the crowds coming and going, I couldn't find it anymore, so I came in and sat down, and tears came again.
In recent years, my father and I have been running around, and the situation at home is getting worse and worse. As a teenager, he went out to make a living, made his own living and did many great things. I didn't know the original environment was so depressing! He was so sad that he couldn't control himself. If you are depressed in the middle, it is natural to send it out; Family trifles often touch his anger. He treats me differently. But I haven't seen him for the last two years. He finally forgot my fault and only thought about me and my son. After I came to the north, he wrote me a letter, which said: "I am in good health, but my arm hurts badly." It's not convenient to pick up a pen, so my departure time is not far away. " I read here, and in the crystal tears, I saw the back of that fat, blue cotton robe and black mandarin jacket. Alas! I don't know when I can see him again!
Appreciation of American literature;
Mr. Zhu Ziqing's "The Back" and "The Woman Mourning for the Past" are called "the first-class literature between heaven and earth". He was able to show deep affection in the light pen and ink, without any affectation, but with a touching power, especially Back, which expressed the author's deep affection for his father Hongjun Zhu and deeply touched every reader, and has long been included in Chinese textbooks of middle schools and universities as modern classic prose.
Recently, however, some people criticized Mr. Wang's beautiful writing on the Internet, calling it morbid literature, and clamoring to delete Sven from Chinese textbooks in middle schools and universities. After reading the words published by these people on the Internet, I can't help but feel a little sad and sigh several times. At present, a group of bitches can't help but appear shirtless, akimbo, spitting, foaming at the mouth and cursing in the street with their necks stretched out. According to these people's views, almost all of China's 5,000-year-old splendid culture and art are morbid and can't enter their eyes. And they themselves can't produce one, or one, of their own non-pathological works to feast their eyes on. Why? So, I not only remembered Mr. Lu Xun's sentence, "When the soldier died, the flies first noticed his shortcomings and scars, and then shouted at the camp, thinking that they were proud and thought they were more heroes than the dead soldiers" ("Soldiers and flies"), but also gave them as gifts to those bitches who shouted in the street.