Diary of Confinement Nanny

Hidden between the pages of "Moon Marks" are the footprints of an ordinary confinement nanny. From the begonias falling petals during the Qingming Festival to the homecoming train in the twelfth lunar month, Sister Su used the months as a rope to string together the days of 2019. Her footsteps ran through Beijing's alleys and high-rise buildings, stopping at different delivery rooms and cribs: the hot porridge of working-class families, the anxiety of working parents, the concerns of military families, the kindness of college teachers... The fireworks in every house , there is the back of her bending down to change a diaper, the heat when she makes soup, and the tears she secretly wipes away - for the old father and young daughter far away, for the deceased husband, and for the warm cake and a soothing word handed to her by the stranger in front of her. This is not a legend, it is just a woman's support in life. Her waist may be stooped due to exertion, but her eyes are always bright with hope: as she always said, life is like a bus, moving from stop to stop, it will eventually come to an end, but as long as you move forward, there will be light. The moon is cloudy and sunny, and the marks have different depths. Those tiny bits of warmth scattered over the years, those moments when ordinary people support each other, are exactly what life looks like in its most real form—suffering is real, warmth is also real, and living is meant to carry on with these weights and lights, step by step.