Grandma always likes to say: "My child, encountering a bumpy road is like meeting a river. When you are here, the river is the bumpy road. When you cross the bridge, there is no river in front of you. Don't be afraid of the river, just work hard to cross the bridge."
Grandma's life was full of ups and downs. Back then, the Japanese slaughtered her mercilessly and her parents died tragically, but she did not give up; her young brother was separated in the chaos, but she did not give up either. Later, when her husband was stained with blood on the battlefield and she was left alone, she still gritted her teeth and survived. In those famine years, wild vegetables and tree bark were all the food. Even so, she still lived tenaciously; her children died of dysentery one after another, and this heavy blow could not make her bow.
She is like the tough Populus euphratica in the northwest desert, standing firm in the storm of fate, crossing the "river" in life again and again. But this time, she left herself on this side of the river.
Grandma, you have crossed so many bridges in your life, gone through countless wind and rain, and you have overcome every hurdle. But this time, are you tired or fed up, or are you feeling cold? You choose to stop on this side of the river and stop running. But your strength, like those bridges, will remain in my heart forever, giving me the courage to cross when facing the "river" of life.
