Needless to say, I came out of the village, and it may be difficult for me to go back to live in the village. Because... Maybe when I get old, the village where I grew up and lived will have died out without even realizing it. In a sleepless midnight, an idea suddenly came to my mind. I wanted to leave some specious words for the village where I once lived and left, as well as the familiar faces in my memory, the parents who are getting older, the friends who grew up together, and the old people who have disappeared in the long river of memory.
This is my original intention of writing this miscellany.
Before I started writing this miscellany, there were only twenty or thirty households in the village where I grew up. Many of the houses were already guarded by iron generals. The owners either followed the children to other places and settled in the corners of some strange city, taking over the task of raising the third generation on behalf of their children. Or they moved to a commercial house in the county town and began the so-called life of a city dweller.
Those who stayed and were still working hard in the fields were old people in their fifties and sixties who still had the energy to take care of the land.
Then, after this generation grows old, it is inevitable that the village that I love, the village where I was born and raised will disappear.
This is a slow process. If you don't look back at the past while working steadily day after day, you will hardly notice it.
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This is actually a miscellaneous note, but when the label was changed to essay, the system reminded me to fill in the article attributes. I had no choice but to change it to novel. Sorry. The update time is uncertain, and the length is uncertain. They are just some scattered personal memories and emotions. Even if it is a small piece of private land in my field in Jinjiang, please be careful when jumping into it, thank you! ————Mugwort 2016.4.15
Reader comments
Dada is really a serious and mature storyteller. I am very lucky to see such articles in Jinjiang.
This is Dada's own story, right? Isn't it just an essay? What's there to update? You only write when you have what you want to say.
I feel very touched because there are only seven households left in the place where I grew up. The originally small village is now even more lonely. When I was a child, the lights of thousands of houses used to look very warm when night fell. Looking back now, everything is silent, there is no extra sound under the sparse lights, even if the lights are bright, it is still deserted.
I really cried. The author's words seemed to penetrate into my heart. I couldn't imagine how lonely I would be without my mother in the future, but I also thought that when my mother gets older, I will be her only support.
Dear, please come back and write quickly, (づ￣3￣)づ╭?～
Dada is really a serious and mature storyteller. I am very lucky to see such articles in Jinjiang.
This is Dada's own story, right? Isn't it just an essay? What's there to update? You only write when you have what you want to say.
I feel very touched because there are only seven households left in the place where I grew up. The originally small village is now even more lonely. When I was a child, the lights of thousands of houses used to look very warm when night fell. Looking back now, everything is silent, there is no extra sound under the sparse lights, even if the lights are bright, it is still deserted.
I really cried. The author's words seemed to penetrate into my heart. I couldn't imagine how lonely I would be without my mother in the future, but I also thought that when my mother gets older, I will be her only support.
Dear, please come back and write quickly, (づ￣3￣)づ╭?～