The topic of maternal love has been described countless times, but it is always a young topic. Because, mom is always young in our hearts.
Think of a translated movie I watched when I was a child. I only watched the plot at that time. Now that I think about it, the maternal love described in it makes people sad.
The content of the film has been blurred, and one of the plots is still fresh in my memory. In the middle of the night, a young mother stole a black children's jacket from the supermarket and was sentenced to prison. 19 years later, in a solemn court, a lawyer defended her and said, "This lady loves her children wholeheartedly like all mothers who love their children. But in poverty, her son often goes hungry. Compared with other children, her son has no delicious snacks, no toys to show off and even no clothes to wear when going out. However, this young mother has no ability to make money herself. She felt that she owed the children too much. Poverty made the pain in her heart speechless. She loves her children too much. When Christmas came, the young mother felt guilty for a long time for not buying a gift for her son. When she saw her five-year-old son staring at a jacket through the window at night, she did something wrong in order to satisfy the child's simple wishes without money. " The lawyer defending this mother is her son who grew up in an orphanage after her arrest.
Hearing such an excuse and seeing such a story, I feel my eyes moist. When I was a child, my family was very poor. Mom often doesn't get paid at work. She often sells the products of her unit on the street. In exchange for sporadic money to support the family. Buy me delicious fruit snacks.
How sacred and pure a mother's love for her children is. It's as simple as a mother can give anything for the happiness of her children. Mothers love their children without any reason and without any return.
Enjoy maternal love-it takes a lot of effort to type these words.
When I wake up in the morning, I will be in high spirits because someone invited me to dinner. Even the fine weather will make me inexplicably excited. But at my mother's place, I will get used to eating the big breakfast she just cooked in the kitchen. When I get home outside, I will be glad to have friends far away, but what I got from my mother may be an ordinary cup of boiled water that I held in her hand for a long time. On my birthday, I will smile from ear to ear in the face of sudden exquisite gifts, and what I get from my mother may only be those deep eyes with a smile ... I think there is nothing greater than maternal love, and her greatness lies in meticulous and almost inconspicuous care.
I was unlucky and suddenly had a facial stroke. It may be that during the treatment, the dosage is relatively large, the mind suddenly wakes up and dizzy, and the mood drops to the extreme. Really to the point where sugar tea is tasteless. But I ran into the hard disk of my computer, and one after another there were problems. Once I wanted to write something, but my hard disk was scanned all afternoon, and my original interest in writing was gone. I feebly turned the books in the bookcase to the bed, and the low valley made me unwilling to read the handwriting on any page. Just look at the pictures on each cover one by one. Books are all open, hanging upside down and piled up, making the bed a mess. Even in the end, even the sheets will fall to the ground.
It's getting dark. I'm going to the living room to watch TV. Listening to my mother's words to cheer me up, I ate tasteless food glumly.
When I went back to the dormitory to rest after dinner, I saw that the books that had been messy on the bed had returned to the bookcase neatly. My mother helped me tidy it up. Every book is neatly placed there, and different types of books and magazines are classified in different layers. The mosquito net on the bed has been dropped, and the four sides are pressed tightly to prevent mosquito attacks. The blanket on the bed is quite comfortable. I lie on it, like a boat on a calm lake, rippling ... the insects outside the window croak in my ear. However, I am like a hero in a fairy tale and will never grow up. The warmth of maternal love surrounds my whole body and fills my sweet dream with brilliant golden sunshine.
Maternal love is a kind of pure love. Not some people believe that understanding is love, not some people agree that dedication is love. This is an irresistible desire to make children happy and comfortable, which permeates from the mother's soul and bones. Motherly love is never so superficial. Most of the time, she will be deposited in her mother's eyes, tone, invisible expression, even a sigh and a short breath.
Enjoy maternal love-a lovely person.
My mother Lao She
My mother's family is in a small village outside Deshengmen in Beiping, just outside Tucheng, on the way to Dazhong Temple. There are four or five families in the village, all surnamed Ma. Everyone grows some less fertile land, but my brothers of the same age are all soldiers, carpenters, masons and surveyors. Although they are farmers, they can't afford cows and horses. When there are not enough people, women have to work in the fields.
For grandma's house, I only know the above. I don't know what my grandparents are like because they have passed away. As for the farther lineage and family history, I don't even know; The poor can only care about the immediate food and clothing, and have no time to talk about the glory of the past; The word "genealogy" has never been heard of in my childhood.
Mother was born in a farmhouse, so she is hardworking and honest, and she is in good health. This fact is extremely important, because if I don't have such a mother, I'm afraid I'll have to make a big discount.
My mother probably got married a long time ago, because my sister is now an old woman in her sixties, and my niece is one year older than me. I have three brothers and four sisters, but only my elder sister, second sister, third brother and I can grow up. I am the "old" son. When I was born, my mother was forty-one, and my elder sister and second sister were both married.
Judging from the family where the elder sister and the second sister got married, before I was born, my family was probably average. At that time, the betrothal paid attention to the right door, the eldest sister-in-law was a small official, and the second sister-in-law also opened a pub. They are all quite decent people.
However, I, I brought misfortune to my family: after I was born, my mother fainted in the middle of the night and opened her eyes to see her old son-thank you for holding me in my arms and not freezing to death.
When I was one and a half years old, I killed my father "Dick". My younger brother is less than ten years old, my third sister is twelve or thirteen, and I am only one and a half years old. I was raised by my mother alone. My father's widowed sister lives with us. She smokes opium, likes playing cards and has a bad temper. For our food and clothing, mother will wash clothes, mend or sew clothes for others. In my memory, her hands are red and slightly swollen all year round. During the day, she washes clothes and one or two big green clay pots. She never does anything perfunctory, even the black cloth socks sent by the butcher are washed white. In the evening, she and her third sister lit oil lamps to mend clothes until midnight. She has no rest all year round, but in her busy schedule, she keeps the yard tidy. The tables and chairs are old, and the copper parts of the cupboard door have long been incomplete, but her hands always keep the broken desktop from dust, and the broken copper parts shine. In the yard, the pots of pomegranate and oleander left by my father will always be watered and cared for, and many flowers will bloom every summer.
My brother seems to have never played with me. Sometimes, he goes to study; Sometimes, he is an apprentice; Sometimes, he also sells small things like peanuts or cherries. Mother sent him away with tears in her eyes, and took him back with tears in her eyes in less than two days. I don't understand what's going on, but I think he's strange. It is my third sister and I who depend on my mother as much as life. Therefore, I always follow them when they do things. They water the flowers, and I get water; They sweep the floor and I collect dust ... from here, I learned to love flowers, love cleanliness and keep order. These habits have been kept by me to this day.
When guests come, no matter how embarrassed they are, mother will try to get something to entertain them. My uncles and cousins often buy their own wine and meat, which makes her blush, but they give them warm wine and give her some joy. When there is a wedding or funeral at home, my mother will wash the dress and congratulate herself-a gift may be just two pennies. Up to now, my hospitality habit has not completely changed, although life is so hard, because it is not easy to get rid of the things I used to grow up with.
My aunt often loses her temper. She searched for bones in the eggs alone. She is the king of hell in my family. She died when I entered middle school, but I never saw my mother resist. "I'm not angry with my mother-in-law. Am I not influenced by my sister-in-law? Life is like this! " Mother only says this when she has to explain that this is not enough to convince others. Yes, this is fate. A mother is never too old, nor too poor, nor too difficult. This is all fate. She will suffer the most. She always runs ahead to help her relatives and neighbors: she will bathe the baby three times-poor friends can spend less money on "grandma"-she will shave the children's heads, and she will twist the young woman's face ... whatever she can do, she will give whatever she wants. However, quarrels and fights will never have her. She would rather suffer than be angry. When my aunt died, my mother seemed to cry all her life's grievances to the grave. I don't know where a nephew came from, claiming the right of inheritance, but his mother silently taught him to move those broken tables and benches and gave him a fat chicken raised by his aunt.
However, mother is not weak. My father died the year Boxer punched. Allied forces entered the city and searched from house to house for property, chickens and ducks. We were searched twice. Mother sat on the wall with her brother and third sister, waiting for the "devil" to enter the door. The door facing the street was open. After the "devil" came in, he stabbed the old yellow dog to death with a bayonet and then searched the room. After they left, my mother found me with a broken suitcase. If the box was not empty, I would have been crushed to death. The emperor ran away, her husband died and the devil came. Lotus flames are everywhere in the city, but mother is not afraid. She wants to protect her children under the bayonet and in famine. There are many accidents in Beiping. Sometimes there is a mutiny, the whole market is on fire, and the fireball falls in our yard. Sometimes there will be civil war, the city gates are closed, the shops are closed, and the guns are fired day and night. This kind of panic, this kind of tension, plus the planning of the family's diet and the concern for the safety of the children, can a weak old widow bear it? However, at this time, my mother's heart is horizontal, and she doesn't panic or cry, so she has to make something out of nothing. Her tears will fall into her heart! This combination of rigidity and softness was also passed on to me. I have a peaceful attitude towards all people and things and take the loss for granted. However, as a person, I have a certain purpose and basic rules, and I can do anything without exceeding the boundaries I have drawn. Afraid of meeting strangers, running errands and showing your face; But when I have to go, I dare not go, just like my mother. From private schools to primary schools and middle schools, I have experienced at least 20 teachers, some of whom have a great influence on me, and some have no influence at all, but my real teacher, the teacher who inherits my personality, is my mother. My mother can't read What she gave me was the education of life.
When I graduated from primary school, my relatives and friends unanimously wanted me to learn skills to help my mother. I know I should find food to relieve my mother's hard work and hardship. However, I also want to go to school. I sneaked into the normal school-uniforms, meals, books and accommodation were all provided by the school. Only in this way can I dare to tell my mother about school. You have to pay a deposit of ten yuan to enter school, which is a huge sum of money! My mother struggled for half a month to raise this huge sum, and then sent me out with tears in her eyes. As long as her son is promising, she takes great pains. When I graduated from normal school and was appointed as the principal of a primary school, my mother and I didn't sleep a wink all night. I just said, "in the future, you can rest!" " Her answer was only a string of tears. After I entered school, Third Sister got married. A mother loves her children equally, but if she is a little partial, she should be partial to her third sister, because everything in the family has been supported by her mother and third sister since her father died. Third sister is mother's right hand, but mother knows that this right hand must be cut off. She can't delay her daughter's youth for her convenience. When the sedan chair came to our door, my mother's hands were as cold as ice, and her face was bloodless-it was April in the lunar calendar, and the weather was very warm, and everyone was afraid that she would faint. However, she struggled, bit her lip, put her hand on the doorframe and watched the sedan chair walk slowly. Soon, my aunt passed away. Third sister is married, my brother is not at home, I live on campus, and only my mother is left at home. She had to have an operation from morning till night, but no one said a word to her all day. The new year is coming, just in time for the government to advocate the use of the solar calendar instead of celebrating the old year. On New Year's Eve, I took two hours off and went home from a crowded market to clean the stove and cool it down. Mother smiled. She froze when I heard that I had to go back to school. It was a long time before she sighed. When I should go, she handed me some peanuts. "Go on, son!" "The street is very busy, but I didn't see anything. Tears blurred my eyes. Today, tears filled my eyes again, and I remembered my loving mother who spent that miserable New Year's Eve alone that day. However, the loving mother won't wait for me any longer, she has been buried!
The old man is always sad that his children's lives have not followed the trajectory cast by their parents. I am 23 years old. My mother wants me to get married, but I don't want it. I asked my third sister to intercede for me, and my mother nodded tearfully. I love my mother, but I gave her the biggest blow. Times have made me a rebel. When I was 27, I went to England. For myself, I gave my 60-year-old mother a second blow. On her seventieth birthday, I was still far away in a foreign country. That day, according to my sisters, the old lady only drank two mouthfuls of wine and went to bed early. She misses her youngest son so much that she can't say it.
After the July 7th Anti-Japanese War, I escaped from Jinan. Beiping was occupied by the devil like that year of Gengzi, but the youngest son that his mother missed day and night ran to the southwest. I can imagine how much my mother misses me, but I can't go back. Whenever I receive a letter from home, I always dare not open it at once. I'm afraid, afraid, afraid, afraid of unknown news. People, even if they live to be eighty or ninety years old, will be a little childish to their mothers. Losing a loving mother is like a flower in a bottle. Although there is still color and fragrance, it has lost its roots. A person with a mother is calm at heart. I am afraid, afraid, afraid that the letter from home will bring bad news and tell me that I have lost my roots.
Last year, I couldn't find anything about my mother's daily life in my home letter. I doubt and fear. I can imagine that without misfortune, I am lonely in exile at home, but I still can't bear to tell you. Mom's birthday is in September. I wrote a birthday letter in August and half, expecting it to arrive before my birthday. The letter asked me to write down the details of my birthday, so that I no longer had doubts. 1On February 26th, I came back from the meeting of the Cultural Labor Army and received a letter from home. I dare not open it. I opened the letter before going to bed. My mother has been dead for a year!
My mother gave me life. I can grow up because of my mother's blood and sweat. I am not a very bad person because of my mother's influence. My personality and habits are inherited from my mother. She never enjoyed a day's happiness and ate coarse grains when she died! Alas! What are you talking about? Heartache! Heartache!
mother love
I finished the last math problem and found no one else in the classroom. It took me a while to feel my stomach singing "empty city plan" shit! It's long past lunch time, and it's no fun to be hungry. I quickly packed my books, picked up bowls and chopsticks and ran to the canteen.
The canteen is empty, only Master Chen is sweeping the floor. I walked up to him and couldn't wait to ask, "Is there anything to eat?" Startled, she looked up, gave me a look, threw down her broom and hurried to the door.
I was puzzled at first, then angry. As soon as she walked out of the dining hall, I scolded, "I'm speechless!" After hearing this sentence, she looked back at me, hesitated, and continued to walk to the dormitory.
Oh, no, I must have complained to the class teacher. What do we do? I stare at her distant back and think how hateful she is! The blue fat trousers are lined with a thin blue coat, which shows her ugliness more. Well, it's not human at all. What a good cook you are, and you are praised as a "senior chef" by your classmates! "Bah!" I spat hard at her back.
I wandered at the entrance of the canteen, beating my chopsticks unconsciously, watching the direction of Master Chen's departure, and tears of grievance and resentment flowed out. In the misty eyes, I seem to see my mother coming to me with steaming food. I threw my arms at it.
This is an empty hug. Mom, why don't you stay with your daughter? Why not take care of your daughter? Do you know how much I want maternal love at this time?
Soon, Master Chen came to me with a basket. I think: I can't eat today, but I still have to train. Let's train! Throwing caution to the wind! I stormed back to the canteen, ready to give her some revenge, even if it was a dirty look. ...
"Are you hungry?" Very kind voice. Hum, I quite like it! I was elated when I sued. I turned my head and shot her with my eyes.
At this moment, I froze. I saw a big bowl of steaming food stretched out in front of me. "Let's eat! All the dishes in the kitchen have been sold out just now. No wonder you complain. " I looked up and met those smiling eyes, smiling so sincerely and kindly, just like my mother. Suddenly, a warm current surged all over the body.
Guiltily, I took out my meal ticket and handed it over. "This is not a school, what tickets do you want? There is still a class later, don't be late. " I took the bowl and looked at her carefully. Still blue cloth shoes, hypertrophy of blue pants, blue shirt; Ear-length short hair with silver thread inserted in her ear, and a weather-beaten wrinkled face, stretched out with a smile at this time, making her more kind. "Oh, how much she looks like my mother! Isn't that loving eyes and kind smile just like mom? Isn't that a mother who is rude and tolerant to the next generation? My nose suddenly soured and my tears came out. Tears of happiness, tears of regret
Master Chen went to clean the ground again. I dried my tears and ate delicious food, calling from my heart: "Master Chen, no, mom, please forgive my daughter's ignorance and disrespect. I will definitely repay your noble maternal love with excellent results. "
Motherly love praise
Maternal love is the eternal theme of human beings.
We give it too many interpretations and too many connotations.
There is no soul-stirring historical epic, no shocking reversal of stormy waves, and a mother's love is like a spring rain, a clear song that moistens things silently for a long time.
Yu, a contemporary essayist, wrote in an article: "The starting point of all travelers is always to say goodbye to their mothers ... Their destination is the aging ... elderly people in their twilight years. It is impossible to cry for their mothers without moving people, and they cannot but cry for their return and wander."
Motherly love is the ultimate destination of wanderers and a clear spring that nourishes children's hearts. With the children sipping and sipping, it is endless. Therefore, the lingering maternal love is integrated into the children's laughter and tears.
Motherly love is like an idyll, deep and pure, elegant and light;
Motherly love is a landscape painting. Wash away the lead carving and leave it fresh and natural.
Motherly love is like a affectionate song, melodious and melodious, singing softly;
Motherly love is a warm wind, which blows away the snow and brings infinite spring.
Motherly love is a lifetime of laughter and a wandering yearning. Motherly love is the concern and anxiety of children before their sickbed. Motherly love is the ardent expectation of their children's growth.
When I think of my mother, my depression will turn into high emotions; When I think of my mother, wasting time will become great pride; When I think of my mother, the wandering wanderer will sprout the desire to go home; Thinking of my mother, my wandering heart found a home.
Time is like water, and the years are fleeting. How many memories disappear like water, but we have never changed our thoughts of our mother. The warbler goes to swallow, and the spring goes. Her face is getting older and her hair is as white as snow. The child is growing up day by day, but the mother is aging day by day. When the children see the white-haired mother in the high hall, they will jump into her arms and shed tears!
Motherly love is also the eternal theme of literature and music. Literati write articles on the topic of maternal love, moistening things silently; The musicians are mainly maternal love, and the tunes they play are soft and beautiful, with a long aftertaste.
The thread in the hand of a kind mother makes clothes for her wayward children. Before leaving, I had a stitch for fear that my son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged. But how much love has an inch of grass, and it is rewarded with three spring rays. " Meng Jiao, a poet in the Tang Dynasty, experienced ups and downs, poverty and sadness, but his mother's smile always lingered in his mind. Knowing his mother's future, he couldn't hide the smile on his face, couldn't restrain the joy in his heart, shook off the tired wind and frost on the top of his clothes, brushed away the dust accumulated in his heart, and took his wife and children to meet his mother outside Liyang City. Green grass, fragrant flowers, white clouds and clear rivers are filled with endless thoughts of my son. Mother and son depend on each other, with tears in their eyes, holding their mother's warm hand and looking at her old face. They couldn't help crying and were filled with emotion. Under Meng Jiao's pen, this poem "Ode to a Wanderer", full of maternal love, was melted and cast, sincere and profound, and passed down for thousands of years.
Du Fu, a poet in the Tang Dynasty, lived in exile all his life. After the Anshi Rebellion, I returned to my hometown, and the countryside was deserted, and things were different. Bitter and sad, seeing things hurt the body, he combined the feelings of worrying about the country and the people with the feelings of missing his mother, and wrote a touching Homelessness. "Forever pain long sick mother, five years committee ditch creek. I was born weak and sour about life. Life is homeless, why steam! " The words are sad and sad enough to make people feel generous and shed tears for generations.
At the end of the Eastern Han Dynasty, Cai Wenji was taken captive to Xiongnu by mutinous soldiers and left his hometown, and Wan Li fled. When they were redeemed by China's envoy, the mother and son said goodbye, tears filled their eyes, and relatives and friends said goodbye, which made them sad. She wrote in Poems of Mourning Anger: "I have freed my life, so I should abandon my son. Heaven belongs to composers, and there is no meeting time for reading ... no. Crying hands caress when you answer doubt. " Sad, sad, sad voice, it makes people cry. People in the Tang dynasty once wrote Hu Jia's songs on this topic, which seemed to cry rather than cry, and a strong feeling of mother and son permeated the tune.
Maternal love is great and selfless. It immerses everything and fills the space between heaven and earth.
With maternal love, mankind will move from desolation to the prosperity of civilization; With maternal love, society moves from indifference and severity to peace and well-being; With maternal love, we move from melancholy to singing, from stupidity to wisdom; With maternal love, there will be the beginning of life, the continuation of history, the germination of reason and the return of human nature.
Motherly love is boundless.
Spring has quietly come to us, the spring breeze gently blows the flowers red, and the spring rain quietly moistens the leaves. We are as vibrant as red flowers and green leaves. Who ever thought who let the spring breeze and spring rain moisten us silently?
Who cooked a delicious breakfast for us when we got up in a hurry in the morning? When we hurried out of the house with our schoolbags on our backs, whose figure lingered at the window and looked around? When we returned to the farm with a tired body, who had cooked the bath water for us? Who quietly put a glass of milk at the corner of the table when we were studying late into the night? What kind of person can do so much without asking for anything in return? It's mom.
Since childhood, my mother has always been the closest and favorite person around us, asking questions, knowing the cold and knowing the heat. Before we could express ourselves clearly, my mother took pains to teach us English. When we were unable to protect ourselves, my mother used her broad and selfless love to shelter us from the wind and rain without hesitation; When we thought we were going to get rid of her shelter when we grew up, mother looked at us silently and carefree; When we are happy, my mother smiles at us with bright eyes; When we are sad, my mother knows that she can't help us, but she is still sad with us ... My mother has done too much for us, but she never asks for anything in return. What a generous and selfless love it is!
Since ancient times, many scholars have greatly exaggerated the greatness of Feng's maternal love, which has given us something we can't forget. We get far more from it than we pay, learn to be tolerant, understand, be broad and think for others, but what have we done for our mother? Do we just accept my mother's free love with peace of mind? Shouldn't we do something to make mom happy and proud?
The beautiful May has quietly arrived, and the air is filled with fragrance. In this warm season, the eternal theme of May is Mother's Day. What should we do for our mother on this ordinary and special day?
Mom doesn't want gorgeous and expensive jewelry or expensive gifts. The best gift for her is ourselves. Perhaps just yesterday, a budding carnation, a clean and tidy tablecloth and an innocent smile made her feel gratified. Because-children grow up and know how to love their mothers. This is telling mom: mom, I love you!
Yesterday was the second Sunday in May, Beautiful Mother's Day. However, for every child who loves his mother, every day is Mother's Day. Let's hug his mother in the tenderest mood and tell her, "Mom, I love you!" " "