In my memory, there is a honey that falls in the long river of my years, emitting attractive fragrance and lazy sunshine. It is so full, glittering and translucent, emitting golden light. After years of baptism, it still exudes golden light, exudes attractive fragrance, savors it carefully and condenses it into four words: sweet taste. I think that sweet smell should be my mother!

The sweetness in memory is a swing blown by the wind. In a season of colorful leaves, in the evening, I stopped by the garden of the community. Since I entered the school gate of junior high school, I have never seen a garden full of laughter-with the growth of age, the heavy study pressure has made me uninterested and unaccustomed. The breeze blowing, with a hint of coolness, made me shrink, tightened my clothes and walked quickly to the door. The chains collided and made a "ding" and "ding" sound. I looked back and saw the swing dancing in the wind, and my heart was warm and sweet. ...

"Hold on tight, one, two, three, one, two, three .................." I seem to see a petite figure sitting on the swing with a loving smile on her face. ...........................

That's the sweet taste in memory.

The sweet taste in memory is tolerance again and again. When I was a child, I was naughty and reckless. I either broke this or that, and my family couldn't help it. Once, I played ball at home. The ball is as disobedient as I am, bumping like a headless fly. A shrill sound of broken porcelain woke me up from the chaos. I sat on the ground crying, crying to attract my mother and looking at the vase that fell to the ground. She understands. She just smiled and stroked my head with those warm big hands, and her heart was warm and sweet, which was the sweet taste in my memory.

Tasting sweetness has different meanings in different periods, but she is always sweet, always emitting golden light and attractive fragrance, which is worth tasting all my life.