In the long river of memory, there are always some people and things that shine brightly and are unforgettable.
When I was a child, there was an old woman living next door to my house. Everyone affectionately called her Si Po. The fourth wife is over 70 years old, her face is covered with wrinkles, and every wrinkle contains the story of the years.
At that time, what I was most looking forward to was following my fourth wife to graze cattle on the grassland behind the village. The afternoon sun was warm, and the cows grazed slowly on the grass, flicking their tails to drive away mosquitoes and flies from time to time. My fourth wife and I sat under an old tree nearby, with mottled tree shadows falling on us. The fourth wife gently shook her cattail leaf fan and began to tell those ancient stories.
These stories were passed down to her by the fourth wife's grandmother, and they carry the warmth of generations. In every story, there is a wonderful world.
Those stories, like twinkling stars in the night sky, illuminated my childhood.
Now, my fourth wife has left us, but those stories remain in my heart. Now, I want to tell these stories to everyone, so that their light can continue to illuminate the lives of more people, and continue the warmth and beauty in the long river of time.
