If the father is in the old house, the old house is the father.
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I remember where I was born, where I lived and where my roots were. It is not as tall as a building or as luxurious as a villa, but it is a happy place for my childhood memories and a deeper interpretation of the meaning of fatherly love.
According to my mother, before she married our family, our family was very poor, and our family was crowded in a humble old house left by my great-grandfather. After I was born, my grandfather separated, my uncle's family moved out to live in a new house, and our family still lived in the old house. Although the old house is simple and short, because her mother is very diligent and keeps the house in good order, it adds a unique charm to the old house.
After hours, I always like to pester my father to swing behind the old house. I sat on the swing, my father gave me a gentle push with his hand, and I flew out. At that time, I always felt that time was really good. I really hope that time can be fixed at that moment forever. Gradually, I grew up, went to school, talked less and less with my father, and I couldn't find the feeling of intimacy before. After decades of wind and rain, this old house has become shabby and cold ... Finally, my father decided to tear down the old house and build a new one. When the old house that accompanied me for twelve years collapsed in front of me, my heart suddenly became cold and I felt as if I had lost something and was empty.
I went to junior high school, lived on campus, and met my father less often. Father himself is serious. When we were together, he only asked me some questions related to my study, and all that remained was a long silence, which was very boring. I thought that when I grew up, my father didn't love me, just like the old house, it disappeared and I couldn't find it again ... At noon last Friday, I thought that the make-up lessons on Saturday morning would be cancelled, so I called my father: "Dad, I will come back tonight and I won't make up the lessons!" "Oh, tell me what you want to eat, and I'll ask your mother to make it for you ..." He said. "Well, whatever!" A phone call in less than two minutes is extremely boring. When I got home and chatted with my mother, my mother accidentally asked, "Did you call my father on Friday? He was so happy that he kept saying to me, "The wind called me. "After listening to my mother, I couldn't help crying. I thought my father didn't love me, but I gave him a call and made him happy for hours. Suddenly I found that my father was really old, his waist was not as straight as before, and his hair was not as black as before. At that moment, I realized that my father loved me so deeply ... Suddenly, I saw the warm embrace he had taught me and sent me to the hospital when I was sick. ...
If the father is in the old house, the old house is like the father. The warmth of the old house will stay in my heart forever, and my father's love will accompany me to go further!
Article 2:
Happiness, blooming in my Yuan Ye; I, in the silence of the years, grew old and became your memory.
Home, a warm and romantic place, an old house, a memory that I can't run aground, I can't forget, forget this place that makes me attached.
Life is made up of many details, simple and beautiful, just like my home, simple and mysterious.
I still remember that the wilderness of my childhood was the place where my friends and I played, and there were our best memories and the most beautiful laughter. That fertile soil gave me warm light and gentle dreams, as well as the old house built on this fertile soil.
I like that old house very much. There are three rooms in the east: two bedrooms and a kitchen. There is also a row of barns opposite, all of which are earthen walls and tiled roofs, giving people the feeling of rags, but I think it is quiet and elegant enough. I really like the days when I help my father herd sheep in the mountains during the holidays. Music in solitude and reading in leisure are so carefree and happy. I spent a lot of special festivals with sheep, and I also stayed away from the hustle and bustle of the world and returned to nature.
Now I clearly remember that the life of herding sheep and studying at that time gave me endless ideological strength. At that time, the years were quiet, only the sun shone on the earth, and the earth smelled of earth. I am the most comfortable among the mountains. The most unforgettable thing is the sunshine coming in from the window in the morning, which is better than light. It is so gentle, quiet and delicate that it feels comfortable to shine on me. I always hold up a bright spot with my hand and do some novel hand shadows.
The old house is very retro, and the windows are like ancient forms, classical and elegant. There is a sheepfold outside the yard for the sheep to enjoy the cool in summer, and there is a towering willow tree next to it, which is very thick and tall, giving people a simple aesthetic feeling, and sometimes the sheep can enjoy the fallen food. The surrounding environment is elegant, with green mountains and trees, blue sky and white clouds. At home, there is my mother's gentle breathing, my father's ups and downs, and my brother and sister's cheerful laughter.
Five years ago, I demolished the old house because of my father's loss in animal husbandry. On the day I left, my heart was heavy and empty, as if I had lost my spiritual support.
If the old house is still there, the walnut tree in front of the door should be able to bear huge fruits for us to enjoy in the new year!
If the old house is still there, the spring water under the ditch behind the courtyard should be bigger and sweeter than before!
If, it-still there! My brother and I are helping my father herd sheep and read books. Listen to my story!
Now, I envy those children who study and play in under the greenwood tree of Willow, because that is my best memory.
I went to the old house again, where there were only traces of demolition and the environment was messy. I brushed the dust off the willow tree, picked a leaf from the walnut tree and drank a mouthful of spring water. It may or may not taste the same. Everything is here, only the old house is gone, just like a stage without pillars and no songs! At this moment, my heart is heavy, and the blue sky is much darker than before. It may rain!
Whenever I stand at the door of my new home, I dream of going back to my old house one day, but I know that the past is gone forever. I will never have a second childhood, and I will bid farewell to the good times at that time.
We always can't grasp what is in front of us, and always recall the beauty of the past. Perhaps it is an emotion and sustenance. Although the past is wonderful, the future is more wonderful, isn't it? Although the old house is gone, it will always cherish my best memories. In my mind, it is no longer a house, but my motivation. Thank the old house for "growing up" with me all the way!
Article 3:
The sky is still blue and everything is quiet. I think of the sky in my hometown and the old house on the quiet path.
It's late autumn and I'm going back to my hometown, stepping on the fallen leaves all over the ground and looking for the way to my old house. In an instant, a breeze brushed my cheek, and I don't know whose dog provoked the excitement at this moment. I stopped and looked into my eyes.
I don't know what kind of wind and mulberry the painting door has experienced. Even those apricot trees are depressed. Grandma is old, and so are they!
I pushed open the heavy wooden door, but the sound of the old wooden door made me heavier. The old rubble lay there listlessly. Under the eaves, grandma squatted on the dirt steps alone, washing the potatoes that had just been dug out of the cellar, and she didn't know what she was mumbling. I put my heavy backpack beside the wooden door. "grandma!" I shouted, but she didn't hear me. I cried again, and she slowly raised her head, only to see that her face under her gray hair was getting older and older, her eyes were bloodshot, and her hair was so lonely. ...
I saw a warm smile again, but my heart was full of joy. She wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes with calloused hands and quickly raised her crutch, but one stumbled and fell to the ground. I rushed to help my grandmother, only to see her holding my hand tightly and saying, "My granddaughter came to see me ..."
The furnishings of the room are still as usual, but every corner is lifeless and lifeless. Spiders have settled here, and even the small stove is not as hot as before. I helped my grandmother to the kang and sat on it myself. I looked at my grandmother and couldn't help sighing that everything on this day was not as good as before.
Grandma is like a child, always chatting with me. Sometimes she says this and that, which makes people laugh and cry. When she talked about the vegetables she grew, I only remembered this sentence: "What else?" In the past, my aunt was busy picking cabbages in the field, pickling a jar of good winter vegetables with her own skillful hands, and giving a dish to her relatives and friends when they came back from other places during the winter vacation, which was also a gift. Now all the young people in the village have gone to big cities to work hard, and they all think that entering the city is the best way out. No one wants to stay in this small village, leaving only some old people alone in the old house.
Seeing grandma say that she is sleepy, tell her to lie down and rest. I went to the backyard and saw those cabbages lying there alone, which made people sad and the cold wind kept blowing. I wrapped my coat tightly and turned away. ...
Old house! Why are you standing there alone? Has the mud falling from the corner been cleaned up? Why is there only one old man left in the empty yard? How lonely!
At present, the old house in my hometown reappears in front of me. When will everyone gather there?
Article 4:
My dream is shattered, and now I am very tired. Where should I go? Where is my home?
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Snowflakes are falling in winter, and I touch those newly-built houses with my heart, but the warm feeling has long gone, leaving only the coldness of my fingertips. Gorgeous white wardrobe, comfortable English sofa, the biggest bed, although fashionable and beautiful, but not as warm as warm heatable adobe sleeping platform, wooden sofa of mother's generation, wood grain cabinet. The glazed tiles on the roof are shining in the sunlight, but what I miss is the simple blue tiles.
I don't know when the old house at home gradually disappeared, but I feel that the memory of yesterday is still there, and the laughter is still lingering in my ears.
Remember! In the barn of the old house, my father bought several big granaries. No one can find me when I play hide-and-seek in the back. Other friends were found one after another, but I still hid safely. Finally, when I was helpless, I pretended to shout: Come out, we see you. Hee hee, they are really good at making up lies. Someone also asked me, where is it hidden? I won't tell her I'm in the arms of the granary!
Remember, there is a small garden in the old house. Grandpa's favorite peony flower, mom's cough flower and grandma's little daisy are colorful and eye-catching. As for me, I planted cabbage seeds carefully with the shovel given to me by my grandfather and mother. At the end of summer, when I found that lettuce grew instead of cabbage, I cried a little, but when everyone praised the delicious food I planted, I burst into tears and smiled instantly.
Remember, there is a cherry tree, an apricot tree and a fruit tree that I can't name in the backyard of the old house. In spring, when all kinds of small flowers were blooming, I picked one and put it in my ear, and suddenly I felt that I looked good. In summer, fruit trees bear small green fruits, so you can make do with "incubating chickens" (a game of putting green fruits in your ears). In autumn, when the fruit is ripe, I see my father wrap the fruit and send it from one place to another. I didn't leave any for me, and my face was unhappy until my grandmother handed me a bag of fruit, and my mood became happy.
The old house is full of memories, and there still seems to be laughter in the room. There still seems to be my young figure in the garden, and the tree still seems to be fruitful, but now ...
"Old house, new house, new house is not as good as old house ..."
-To my lost childhood and my old house.