Walking hand in hand through the world of fireworks, seeing the sparkling daily life
The fibrous roots of the old banyan tree at the entrance of the alley have grown long again, swaying gently in the evening breeze.
When the time for school was over, several children gathered in front of the grocery store. Then they stretched out their little hands and made gestures and said, "Put the chickens in one place, put the ducks in the second place, separate them in three parts, and make piles in four parts." Xiao Yingzi's finger touched A Ming's chest. A Ming smiled and shrank back, almost stepping into a puddle.
Their laughter was clear and clear , like the tinkling of wind chimes, which frightened the sparrows on the telephone poles.
I also played that game when I was a child. When I put my fingers lightly on my chest, I would feel itchy. When I raised my hand to hit the floor, my palm would hurt slightly. When I shouted the last sentence "Rong Zongsha", all the little hands were stacked on top of each other and finally clenched into a small fist.
That warm touch can still be recalled after decades.
Grandma moved a bamboo stool and sat at the door picking vegetables, with the old yellow dog lying at her feet.
She hummed the tune with a long history and said: "Shake, shake, grandma fights eggplants, pulls Ji, and pulls a fence." A young grandson from the neighbor's house ran over. She picked an eggplant and handed it over, saying: "I want to eat, and I want to sell, so let's play with it." The child held the round eggplant in his arms, as if he had obtained something extremely precious, and ran away giggling.
Grandma looked at his back, her eyes full of smiles .
These Hokkien nursery rhymes sung by generations of people are like an invisible thread that sews the days together firmly, yet also makes them soft and warm.
At dusk, the sky was dark , as if it was going to rain.
In the vegetable market, the stall owners began to close their stalls. The fish seller A Zhong's wife sold the remaining crucian carp at a relatively cheap price. At the same time, she muttered: "The rain from the northwest is falling straight down, so we have to clean up quickly." , go home." The uncle who was selling vegetables next to him teased her: "Is your husband urging you to go back like 'Brother Yoshidai beats the gongs and drums'?" Sister-in-law A Zhong spat at him, and then she smiled.
She picked up the load and walked towards home. When passing by the arcade, she saw the child hiding from the rain under the eaves, stretching out his hand to catch the rainwater. She was also chanting: "It's dark and it's about to rain. Grandpa has a hoe..." She slowed down her steps and gently covered the child's head with a straw hat.
The rain really fell, thin and dense.
The proprietress of the noodle stall was busy under the awning, and the pot was steaming.
The wealthy uncle who looked like a big man sat down and shouted angrily: "Bring me a bowl of fried noodles!" The lady boss took out the noodles with neat hands, poured the marinade on them, sprinkled with chopped green onions, and sent them to the restaurant. He stepped forward and said, "Eat it while it's hot. I won't like it anymore when it's cold." The uncle grinned, lowered his head and ate, using chopsticks to pick up the steaming noodles, making a slurping sound.
Several old men at the table nearby were drinking tea and chatting. They were talking about the son of the old Chen family next door who was getting married. The person who arranged the marriage was Sister-in-law, who was busy making preparations.
When people talk about their happiness, some people will slap their thighs and laugh. That kind of laughter is mixed with the sound of rain, which is both real and lively.
The rain stopped, and the air was filled with the fragrance of earth and grass.
In that alley, the children's singing came, and the song was "The rain in the northwest is falling straight down. The egrets are coming to hurry up." Then, they held branches in their hands like oars, and kept paddling back and forth in the shallow puddles.
The illuminated balcony belonged to someone unknown. The warm orange light filtered through the window and fell on the wet ground, as if it were paved with a layer of broken gold.
There was a little girl who held her mother's hand. As she walked, she raised her head and asked, "Does the lady under the moon have any plans to come out here today?" The mother broke out into a smile and pointed toward the horizon: "Look. , it was already quietly hiding behind the clouds and peeping." Sure enough, a long and narrow gap opened between the clouds, and the faint moonlight shone down. The path it illuminated was exactly the direction in which the little girl and the others turned home.
Suddenly, at this moment, I truly realized that those children's songs spread through oral singing and ear hearing are actually negatives of ordinary people's lives.
First, he wrote down the hoe that Grandpa used to dig up the taro, and then he wrote down the excitement that was evident when the fish, shrimp, water pawn, etc. were getting married, and he also wrote down every command that the child said during the game.
There is holding hands, there is waiting, there is sharing, there is laughter, the shining moments in these ordinary days are all hidden inside.
Just like "holding hands, making good friends, cooking potatoes, and drinking soju", the simplest food and the most simple actions, but because of the company of others, they turn into the most stable comfort in the heart.
It was late at night, and the last bus passed by slowly, its lights illuminating the people going home on the roadside.
There were several barkings in the distance. I don’t know whose dog was waiting for its owner.
The lights in the windows came on one after another, and then went out one after another.
Those sentences that have been sung for hundreds of years will continue to circulate in the dreams of children and on the lips of already elderly people, wrapping up the fireworks of this city in a gentle state.
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