a long time ago

　　Throughout the ages, articles praising mothers have been written almost to death. But the mothers in the world are very different, and everyone has a different view of motherhood, so I will use childish words to express the undiminished love of my mother.

　　My mother is very ordinary, standing in a crowd will not be easily recognized; my mother is very extraordinary, she used a simple mother's love, and father together with the sunrise and sunset, hard to bring up four children. My mother and father met through a matchmaker. In their time, free love was not a casual thing. They never spoke sweetly to each other, nor did they speak sweetly to each other, and they often even had verbal arguments, but I knew clearly that their feelings had been integrated into their ordinary life, and they could not leave each other.

　　Twenty-seven years ago, the eldest sister was born. Since my mother and father were the oldest in their respective families, she was the first child of our two families and rightfully became the baby of all. The eldest sister has been smarter and more understanding since she was a child. However, perhaps too many children and parents are busy with their livelihood, and there is not much energy and ability to take into account all aspects. This made Big Sister feel a sense of resentment, feeling that her parents only knew how to feed and drink their children, but simply did not know how to give them heartfelt care. I remember when Big Sister sent back that letter, my mother, whom I had never seen crying, cried and cried so sadly - and I had never thought that my mother would cry. I was so frightened and so sad about my mother that I ended up crying with her. Now that my older sister has grown up and become a mother, she finally has some idea of the hardships of being a parent and is beginning to understand her rebellion at the time. My sister often tells me that she became a mother before she understood the incomparable love that parents have for their children, and realized that parents are always the ones who love them the most. This is probably the most comforting thing for my mother - the one who has labored for most of my life and still does.

　　Twenty-five years ago, my second sister was born, the second child in my family and the second oldest of the two. Having a child is certainly worth celebrating, but that celebration is always less than an unspoken regret - my grandfather is a very decent man, but has a very serious patriarchal feudal mindset. When he saw two granddaughters, he couldn't sit still. At that time, family planning was quite strict, and the second child had been fined a lot of money, but my grandfather still wanted my parents to have another child. At this point, my mother's heart was fully aware. The second sister is a kind, honest, and somewhat stubborn child, and even the same as my mother has hyperthyroidism, which has not less let my mother worry and even tears. Not long ago, when the second sister in Zhejiang was born prematurely, a ride in the car will be very uncomfortable mother still took a faraway train - I do not know whether the small train, a mother's heart ......

　　Twenty-two years ago, my third sister was born. I don't know what my grandfather had in mind at the time, and I don't know how much pressure my mother should have been under. Three children were like three mountains, weighing heavily on the shoulders of their parents. At that time, it was even suggested to my parents to give my third sister to someone else, but they refused without hesitation. This was secondary to the fact that it was a bad thing for people there to have no sons (I'm not saying that too harshly), so there were always people pointing fingers at my mother. My mother told me that my father didn't care too much about it, but she - who didn't seem to want to be strong - didn't want my father to be the target of everyone's small talk. But she was just a woman, how could she resist everyone's pressure? So she was made to get sterilized - don't wonder how I came to be - and later heard from my grandfather that my mother burst into tears in front of the doctor, crying with all her heart and soul, crying with all the helplessness of a woman. I don't need to explain much about what happened in the end.

　　Nineteen years ago, I came to this beautiful world in tears. Although my uncle already had his first son after my third sister was born and before I was born, my arrival still brought great joy to my grandfather, my grandmother, and my family. And it was only two years ago, when I was hospitalized due to illness and had been under my mother's care, that I learned from her a truth I never knew: I was not born in a hospital, but in the home of a childless couple - they agreed that if it was a daughter, they would give me to them as a child; if it was a son, they would take me home and raise me themselves - and it turned out to be a son, and I returned to my parent's home. I cried very, very sadly in front of my mother, and her eyes immediately became moist. She said that, even if it was a daughter, she would not have given me away - how could she bear to give away her flesh and blood? The happiest person about my birth was definitely my mother, but a month after my birth, my still-happy mother was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism, and I was never breastfed again, and my mother had to suffer the pain and guilt of my illness - although it was not her fault at all. The next test for her was the heavier-than-mountain task of raising four children, so she and my father had to work harder than normal to give us four siblings a clear sky of love. Fortunately, she said I grew up as a good and obedient child, basically did not let her worry much, this is probably the only thing I can do now.

　　Although my mother never disciplined me much, I was still greatly influenced by her: my mother never hit me, which taught me to treat people with generosity; my mother never scolded me at all, which taught me to treat people with courtesy; my mother never opposed my own choices, which taught me to be self-reliant. My mother was very different from my aunt in this respect. When my aunt punished my cousin for kneeling on the rubbing board when my aunt plucked my cousin's "creepers that would climb the wall" and "crocuses that would take up the vegetable patch", I would think about the beatings I had never received and look at my The flowers and plants that grew everywhere, and then the corners of my mouth curled up in gratitude and thankfulness.

　　My mother, my hard-working mother, my ordinary but great mother, how can I, a tiny inch of grass, repay you for your three blessings? If I have learned a hint of good temper, if I have learned to treat people with a little kindness, if I can forgive people and be considerate - I have to thank my loving mother.