"You can write a book in your youthful life..." My mother's admiration is like a seed, like quinoa that has been exposed to the wind and rain among the rocks in the mountains, eroding the beauty of the green clothes, leaving only the wheat core like gravel, and finally taking root in the gaps between the rocks. There should be slender buds, but eventually each leaf and branch is shining brightly under the moon. There should be this mountain that is still shining under the wind and dust.
The dew washes and cleanses the bones, a unique outpouring. This is a woman's struggle, and it is also her heart that condenses like diamonds of tears under the wind and sand of the world. Youthful, is life rough? ! Her novelty and bravery are like a sunflower with its head lowered. Under the heavy seeds, under the curved body, she clings to the sunshine and wind and sand secretly saved. This is a heart-wrenching story, right? I hope that this youthful half-life autobiography will give you a feeling of looking up at the sky after a long period of reflection, and the light in your tearful eyes will look towards the sun.
