Urban life is always the same, such as calm lake, no wave of waves.
One day, the sky will be dark. Suddenly, the lights in the room went out. Power outages in the community are not always the norm. Without a bright light, the little room was dark and dark, reaching out and not reaching out. Fortunately, there are spare candles. With a "magnetic" sound, a match was lighted and the candle's thread was lit. The white wick burned a small candlelight. The candlelight gradually grew from small to large, like a baby who had just been born, and the first cry in the throat cried, from small to large, from weak to strong, from a slight whisper to a loud, clear, bright sound.
It has been such a candlelight for a long time. Want to come to terms with it for a long time. This little candlelight immediately pulled me back to childhood. In the hometown of that time, electricity was still enjoyed in luxury. It is often late in the evening when it comes to my house. At that time, the whole village has long since been in a dream. Therefore, it is the faint candlelight that usually accompanies the night.
In this faint candlelight, the most memorable thing is the mother's presence. My father is far away from home and has no time to take care of everything in the family. For long nights, the companionship of me and my sister was the delicate but strong figure of the mother in the candlelight. It was in such dim light and shadow that the mother used her hands that had been busy for a day in the fields during the day and started her flying needles. In the orange candlelight, the mother's body was carved on a pink wall and carved into a clear-cut silhouette. In that silhouette, the mother's black hair, forehead, nose, lips, jaw, and black and white were drawn. What a kind, how warm statue! With her, my sister and I had a family and we had to rely on it. If the same boat had found a berthed port, it was like a baby chick found a nest of peace.
The warmest moment is on a cold winter night. Even though the north wind whistled and the wind blew outside the window; even though the snow drifted out of the window, Rui Qi, with the warm candlelight exudes an orange glow, my sister and I would forget all the cold and fear outside the window. Lie in warm blankets and enjoy warm winter warmth in winter. This warm blanket is the mother's drying on a sunny day, exudes a warm taste, it is the taste of the sun, it is the mother's taste.
The mother's education is not high, but she loves to tell stories. Because hometown is not far away from the former residence of Pu Songling in Puchuan Village, Pu Songling’s “Mystery of Lonely Stairs†will be transmitted to the mouth of the local people, and it will be handed down from generation to generation. The mother always loves to pick up those educational stories that tell me and my sister. The wonderful stories that sounded far apart but still close to one another, brought me into an illusory world that is full of justice and truth, full of beauty and harmony. In the mother's vivid description, my sister and I unwittingly went to sleep. I do not know how long it has been like a sleep, wake up and wake up, that orange light is still lit, my mother is still sewing my sister and my sister's clothing. When I didn't carelessly, I turned to sleep again.
Time flies, in an instant, I have passed the innocent year, and my mother is already embarrassed. The years of childhood, like flowing rivers, have long gone. However, the candlelight in the memory, and the loving figure of the mother in the candlelight, often appear in front of my eyes when the candle light rises. It is engraved in my heart.