There is an tung tree in the backyard of my hometown. When I was a child, I always liked to be alone, looking at tung flowers full of branches. In the wind, I angered the wandering bees. Every time I look up at them, I wish I could fly out.
Grow up slowly, often busy with life. In the busy rush, I am getting farther and farther away from home, but the paulownia trees in the backyard are still swaying in the wind and still covered with branches.
I remember that year, when I first walked into the mining area, I was nineteen years old. Since I graduated from the Institute of Coal Industry, I have a feeling of eager to show myself. At that time, I was always full of passion and pride all day, just like a soldier on the battlefield for the first time, looking forward to it inexplicably. On the day of registration, the weather was fine and I was in a good mood. A stout director in charge of personnel handed me over to a young director. The young director squinted at me for a long time before reading my resume in detail several times. I'm a little puzzled by his behavior. I'm as anxious as a schoolboy who has done something wrong. I don't know what to do. My face is burning. After careful consideration of his motives, it seems that the police officer finally made a heavy decision and picked up the phone on the desk.
"Hey, nothing can add a new member to your collection class."
In a short time, a strong black man panted and ran up the tubular building. Black people are not in a hurry to talk. First, a man standing at attention gave a standard military salute, and then shook hands with the young director. By eavesdropping on their brief conversation, I knew that the black man was nothing.
Look at this black man. He is covered with black pimples and muscles. He looks dignified and strong. It is more appropriate for others to call him nothing.
"Is that you?" Nothing asked me excitedly.
"Yes, old classmate." The young director nodded to answer.
"Please rest assured. I will make him an excellent coal miner. " Without saying anything, he stepped forward and raised his hand and patted me on the shoulder. Although just once is enough for me, it's like being hit hard by a hammer. I'm getting impatient, and I think this guy is really a tiger.
Working in the collection class, mainly digging coal from underground to the mined coal seam. For a graduate student like me, who has been dealing with books since childhood, has never worked hard and has been pursuing a comfortable life without a job, it is simply a kind of helplessness, a kind of pain, and a bitter feeling of being left out. Away from books, I live with a group of workers, go down the well in the morning and don't see the sun at night. What's that smell? I don't think about it, but I dare not think about it. Is the brilliant life I have dreamed of countless times always accompanied by coal? When will this day get better? I suddenly have a strong sense of loss.
Maybe this is life. We always look forward to a bright future and hope that God can give us happiness, but there are also some disappointments in it. And this kind of disappointment often makes people panic and fear, making people restless and unable to live a good life in peace.
On the night after work, I couldn't wait to dial the home phone.
"child." My father's gentle call on the other end of the phone made me feel the warmth of home and my father's love.
I almost talked with tears about how remote the mining area is, how hard the collection class is and how boring the underground work is. Finally, I said, "if I keep working underground like this, it will be too mediocre for me." . . . . . "
When I cry like a barrage, I am so bad and so inadequate. At the other end of the phone, my father could hardly get in a word. Waiting for me to complain that I am full. The air seems to have solidified, and the other end of the phone is still quiet. After a while, my father's earnest voice seemed to comfort me: "Let's start from the beginning!" "
What else can I say? I don't know how I escaped and fell on the wooden bed in the dormitory. Listening to the snoring of the workmates, my eyes are sour. That night, my thoughts rolled and I thought a lot. After midnight, I looked at the vast starry sky in the cold wind until dawn.
In life, we often greet everything with a hundred times of energy, but if we are not careful, we will fall into a helpless and embarrassing situation. Then you have lost your original dream and lost some beauty. That sweet pain can only be buried in my heart.
"Let everything start from scratch." I chewed this sentence step by step on the second day of underground mining. Since you can't predict how life will end, why refuse to treat life? Maybe I have something to do with coal mines in my life, so why sleep on a trampoline? There is no reason to leave this team.
When the days are getting longer, I am no longer a "sick man" who often takes vacations. Use your leisure time after dinner to get in touch with workers, and you will know everyone's situation and preferences, and your hearts will be close to each other. Eat a pot of rice together and sweat like rain to produce high-yield and high-quality coal. Even if you are tired, you don't complain about your work. Everyone's strength is twisted into one, and strength is used together. Every time I listen to the rumbling machine pushing deep into the coal seam, I always feel happy when I look at the dark faces of my teammates and step on coal everywhere.
When someone asked about our work, everyone was all smiles, just like warriors on the court, shrugging and answering "nervous and interesting." This is the portrayal of life. These words can show the simplicity and simplicity of the people in the mining area.
Of course, in real life, we will also be sad and troubled by trivial matters, but these are short-lived. As long as we get together and talk to each other, there won't be a trace of trouble and worry in a short time. So everything is back to normal.
In today's view, it is the father's "everything starts from scratch." My words have influenced me, accompanied me through the most difficult days and interpreted the most difficult words in my life. That includes not only philosophy, but also a father's ardent expectation for his son. It is this expectation that makes me walk through yesterday fully and move towards tomorrow in the alternation of day and month full of lofty sentiments.
It's another year when flowers fly and grass grow. I believe that the backyard of my hometown should be covered with tung branches. However, I can't go back, I can only look at the direction of home and nourish my father's homesickness with memories.