The tenderness of a finger
The sunlight at three o'clock in the afternoon leaks in through the screen window in an angled state, casting a mottled pattern of light and shadow on the floor.
The mother was sitting cross-legged on a soft cushion , holding her newly awakened baby in her arms.
The little man was still slightly confused , and his fleshy little hands were waving randomly in the air.
The mother gently held the unimaginably soft little hands, put his two little index fingers together, and then slowly separated them, reciting an ancient song: "Fighting insects—fly!" At the moment when the last note rose, the baby chuckled, and her clear eyes reflected the mother's eyebrows that were also bent with laughter.
It was just such a simple action, over and over again, until the baby clumsily tried to bring his index fingers together. His serious look made the mother couldn't help but kiss his fair and tender face again and again.
Dreams in the Block Castle
In the corner of the living room, there is a colorful game mat with building blocks of different sizes scattered on it.
Red, yellow, and blue are the most gorgeous background colors of childhood.
The chubby little baby was sitting in the middle of the ground. With his fleshy little hands, he quickly grabbed an elongated red building block. His mouth babbling continuously, but he didn't know what he was saying.
He tried to put one block on top of another, and it fell over.
Tried again, fell again.
He raised his head and looked at his mother next to him. She just smiled softly and did not reach out.
So he smiled too and continued his great building project .
Gradually, the swaying "tall building" stood up. Although it looked like it would fall down at any time, in the eyes of the child, it was already a wonderful castle that could be connected to the sky.
A small building block builds not only a shape, but also the joy of concentration and exploration .
midnight lullaby
As the night falls, the world outside the window gradually becomes quiet, except for the occasional slight sound of a car coming from afar.
There was a dim night light on in the bedroom, like a gentle star.
The baby was lying on the small bed, holding the corner of his mother's clothes tightly with his little hands and refusing to let go.
Mom didn't put him down in a hurry, but gently picked him up and sat him in the rocking chair.
The father came over, covered the mother and son with a thin blanket, and then sat down quietly next to them.
Like a breeze, the mother's voice was extremely soft, and it made such a soft sound, from which came: "The wind doesn't blow, the trees don't shake, the birds don't sing, the good baby wants to sleep..." The melody of the lullaby flows in the quiet night, wrapping up the little life.
Gradually, the baby's eyelids became heavy, and he finally fell into a deep sleep. At this time, his little mouth was still slightly open, and he didn't know what kind of sweet dream he was having.
The father gently kissed the baby's forehead, and then kissed the ends of the mother's hair.
Flowers and fruits in the park
When the park is in spring, flowers bloom on the hillside. They are colorful, some are red, like fire, some are pink, like clouds, and some are white, like white snow. They are crowded together lively.
The little girl who had just started to learn to walk staggered towards the nearest little yellow flower with unsteady steps, and stretched out her little hands to pick it.
The grandma behind her who hurriedly walked a few steps squatted down, held her little hand, and asked, "Are the flowers pretty?" The little girl nodded vigorously.
Flowers are for everyone to appreciate. If you pick one and she picks one too, won’t the hillside become bare and unsightly? When autumn comes, these flowers will turn into sweet and sour fruits! The little girl didn't seem to understand, but she still took back her hand, got close to the flower, and smelled it vigorously with her nose. Then she turned to her grandma and smiled, and the smile was brighter than the flower.
It was grandma who picked her up. Grandma pointed to the flowers all over the slope and told her over and over again, and then said something like this: "I won't pick the flowers because they are beautiful. Everyone praises me for being so good!".
Raindrops patter patter
In summer, the rain comes suddenly, like raindrops like beans, and the sound of "crackling" can be heard on the windows.
When the rain became a little lighter and turned into light raindrops, the mother put on the little boy's rain boots. It was a pair of rain boots, bright yellow with little ducks printed on them.
They went out with umbrellas.
The small raindrops, as tiny as needle tips, fell into the puddles one after another, and then rippled round and round; the small raindrops also fell on the leaves, causing the leaves to be washed and turned into emerald green.
The little boy broke away from his mother's hand and deliberately stepped into a shallow puddle, "Plop!"
Water splashed up and fell on his rain boots and his mother's trousers.
He looked up, eyes twinkling , and chuckled.
Instead of blaming him, his mother stepped on him.
The sound of "pah, pah, pah, pah", combined with the sound of rain, became the happiest symphony in the summer afternoon.
At that moment, all the worries seemed to be washed away by the rain, leaving only pure joy .
Little Swallow and Mud Nest
I don't know when two "guests" came under the eaves - a pair of little swallows .
They are busy and busy all day long, flying back and forth non-stop, carrying wet mud with moisture in their mouths from the relatively distant small river, mixed with dry grass stems, and building their own homes bit by bit under the eaves of the houses.
The grandfather held his little granddaughter and looked up at her for a long time.
"Grandpa, what are the little swallows doing?" "They are building a house, creating a warm home for their babies." Grandpa's voice was slow, "Look at how clever they are. They use their mouths as small scissors to cut soil and branches." The little granddaughter was so fascinated that she even forgot to eat the biscuits in her hands.
From then on, watching swallows every evening became their regular program.
Finally, one day came, and a mud nest was built. It was round and shaped like a small bowl, and the swallows were waiting quietly in it.
The little granddaughter asked in a very low voice: "Grandpa, does it have a baby?" Grandpa gently stroked her head and smiled lovingly: "Yes, just like you have mom and dad, they also have a home of their own."
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