Lilacs blossoms

The old house will finally be dismantled and "packed" with the yard in the spring, and everything is settled, except for the lilac tree that is full of buds, which I, a middle-aged man in my fifties, have to think about. Because it was my mother's most beloved "object" during her lifetime, I could not let it perish with the old house. So it took a lot of effort to get it up and move it to the courtyard of my bungalow in the small town.

The old house compound is small, but there are many trees, including paulownia trees, pear trees, neem trees, and two small leafy poplar trees. Three years ago, my elderly mother bought a sapling from the market, saying it was a lilac, and my father nagged that there was no more room for trees in the yard. My mother smiled and did not say anything. The next morning, just after dawn, I suddenly caught a glimpse of a tree "wandering" in front of the window, curious to look through the window, only to see my thin mother, head down, bowed, carrying the tree, slowly moving towards the door. When I chased her out the door, she was dumbfounded and had a slightly embarrassed look on her wrinkled face. I understood that she was afraid of opposition, while the family fell asleep, secretly digging out a small-leafed poplar tree to make room for lilacs ...... lilacs planted, in the mother's careful care, soon sprouted leaves, thriving up. However, not waiting for the lilacs to bloom, my mother had a serious illness in the early summer of the following year and left in a hurry.

This time to the lilac tree relocation, the transplantation of the tree taboo, should be a large number of leaves pruned, but I pity these budding flowers, I did not want to cut branches, hoping that it can bloom normally. Soon thereafter, the tree was in accordance with the wishes of the people, each small fist-like flower buds opened one after another, like a tapestry, like an embroidered ball, one by one piled up into a mass of pink, a faint fragrance attracted bees and butterflies. Whenever I come home from work, I look at it from afar and think about it. Although my mother is no longer here, the tree cultivated by the old man has grown so well and blossomed so strongly after this migration.

However, the lilac wilted after the flowers were gone: the leaves were half-curled, the branches were drooping, and it had a droopy look. So I gave it several times of water, but it did not improve. I think the rainy season may be better, but until the autumn wind blew, the leaves still did not see the stretch, but also not a new branch, it seems that only the "fragrance for the next year".

The next spring, the celandine and orchid and peach and plum competition. Look at this lilac, only long leaves but no buds, and the leaves grow to a certain extent to stop developing, always like sleep. After another year, a slight improvement, the lower half of the tree grows a circle of new branches, the branches of a few small flowers, it is in response to the scene, and other flowers and trees competing to open the momentum is incomparable. Could it be that the tree could not walk away from the sadness of losing its old master?

With the footsteps of another spring, it finally came out. After several years of hard work, it has become an upright tree with green bark, thick branches and green leaves. The dense flower buds are all over the branches, like small fists waiting to strike, full of boxer's masculinity; and when they open in succession, they are like the maiden to be married, with a subtle fragrance. After its own regulation and by my careful pruning, the shape of the tree from top to bottom to form three layers, layers of flowers, as if a sugar gourd dipped in icing sugar crumbs.

The lilacs are in bloom again after a long spring. The plant does not speak, but shows a spirit, if you compare its transplantation to a mother who is pregnant in a crisis, it is better to die than to give birth to a child, exhaustion at all costs, and willingly give their lives. Imagine, if the tree does not carry buds, that transplanting it may die.

The situation of lilac for several years seems to fit some trajectory of the mother's life, that is, no matter how hard life is, how bad the environment, how bumpy the road, the old man is always resilient to resist pressure to move forward. For many nights, under the kerosene lamp, my mother made shoes and sewed clothes for our sons and daughters. When she was old, she still had to take care of the family, and in her seventies, she still sold sorbets at a stall to supplement the family's income, despite her advanced age. In recent years, life has gradually improved, like the blossoming of sesame seeds and lilacs, but counting on her fingers, how many years has my mother caught up?

Looking at the lilacs, I thought of a Russian folk saying: whether a person can achieve happiness, depending on whether he can find five petals in the lilac bush flowers. I tried to look for it, and I really found some five-petaled flowers, and a sense of happiness came over me. And then I thought, "What else do you need to find happiness like this? It was the foundation laid by my mother, just like the tree she left behind, and it just stood there.

At night, I dreamed of my mother sitting under a lilac tree with a smile on her face, her wrinkled face contrasting with the delicate pink flowers, yet so harmoniously embracing each other.