Shake, shake, shake to Grandma Bridge
The vegetable market in the evening is always filled with the most down-to -earth fireworks .
I often see such a grandma, her hair is already gray, she is holding her little granddaughter. At that time, the little granddaughter has just finished school, and they are in front of the stall, picking and choosing.
The little girl looks about three or four years old, with two braids that tower into the sky, and her face is rosy.
While grandma was picking vegetables, she hugged grandma's legs and hummed: "Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream..." The tone was high and low, and I couldn't remember all the words. However, that look, serious and childish, always made me, a passerby, raise the corners of my mouth.
The little girl giggled, and the sunlight stretched their shadows so long. Grandma picked a handful of vegetables, bent down, touched her granddaughter's face with rough but warm hands, and said, "My daughter sings so beautifully, let's go home and go boating." That kind of simple family love is more beautiful than any melody.
Little fingers, big world
There were bursts of crisp laughter in the community room on the weekend.
Several young mothers are playing games with their children.
They sang, "This is how we wash our clothes..." At the same time, they performed the act of rubbing the clothes, and they also performed the action of ironing.
The learning status of that group of children was staggering. Some of them mistakenly changed the behavior of "washing clothes" to "clapping hands", and some of the children mistakenly regarded the behavior of "ironing clothes" as "wiping the table". However, this had no impact on their investment and happiness.
A boy with a little yellow hat on his head stretched out his thin little hands vigorously, gesticulating in mid-air to the rhythm of the music, and mumbling something in his mouth.
The father sitting aside recorded this scene with his mobile phone, his eyes full of adoration .
It turns out that this kind of life wisdom existing in simple nursery rhymes and in parent-child interaction will be passed on from generation to generation, showing a warm and natural state.
Butterflies fly by, which is the color of childhood
In the garden of the community, spring is blooming.
A little girl squatted beside the flowers, motionless.
, her mother gently called her, and at this moment, she quickly raised her index finger and said, "Shh - Mom, I'm looking at the butterfly." Indeed, there was a butterfly with yellow feathers, dancing its wings gently on top of the blooming rose flower, flying gracefully and gracefully.
The little girl lowered her voice, as if sharing an extremely important secret, and said: "Fly fly fly, the butterfly..." She tried hard to recall the children's song taught by the kindergarten teacher, and her little face turned slightly red due to excitement.
The butterfly, which seemed to have understood something, first flew up in a gentle and leisurely dance, then circled around the little girl, and then slowly and leisurely flew away.
The little girl ran after him for a few steps, then turned around and shouted to her mother: "Mom Die'er said goodbye to me!" At that moment, the light shining in her eyes was more dazzling than any gem.
That is the original poetry of life , the animistic innocence of all things .
A small train bound for dreamland
In residential buildings late at night, the lights in most windows have been turned off.
There was only one window, which still revealed a gentle orange glow .
The young mother is sitting on the edge of the bed, holding her child who is about to fall asleep in her arms.
She slowly raised her hand, put it gently on the child's back, and hummed the euphemistic and gentle lullaby in the silence: "Here comes the train, round and round the village..." The child's breathing slowly became even and long, and he was still holding a toy train firmly in his small hand.
The mother's voice becomes softer and softer, like a soft evening breeze blowing through the child's dreamland.
In such a fast-paced city, such a quiet and peaceful night is the most precious time of intimacy between mother and child.
There is a train, which is traveling among the songs. This train is carrying children and heading towards a harbor. That harbor is full of love and has a sense of security.
That light in ordinary days
These fragments scattered in every corner of life are just like these ancient nursery rhymes, with a simple meaning, but they are full of qualities that can comfort people's hearts and give people a sense of strength.
They do not need a gorgeous stage, nor do they need perfect skills. They just need an action full of love for life, a passionate heart, and a pair of eyes that can detect warmth and warmth.
It is these moments that are too small to be mentioned, that gather together to form the most extraordinary light in our ordinary days, allowing us to stop and smile knowingly while we are busy running around, and then accumulate more courage and warmth to continue moving forward.
This is our life, trivial, but with sugar hidden everywhere; plain, but always filled with light.
Comments NOTHING