My father and the big poplar tree

In the spring of that year, my father stuck a bare poplar pole in the ground and said loudly, "In the future, use it to make a coffin for me!

It was at the entrance of my yard, to the right of the gate, my father dug a small hole with a shovel, buried the pole in it, filled it with soil, and stepped on it.

My father's voice was so loud that the poplar tree in front of my front door trembled along with it.

That year, I was 7 years old and my father was 43.

Later, I forgot about the bare poplar pole, but the pole didn't care if I forgot about it, it started to grow silently. Its growth was silent, even lonely, as it quietly grew tiny young leaves, pale yellow, followed by thin branches, also pale yellow. When doing all this, the poplar tree is always silent, like a man walking with his head in his hands. Because of the silence and stillness of the poplar tree, I almost forgot about its existence.

I don't know how tall it grew when I graduated from elementary school and went to junior high school in a village called Qiuhuatun, and I don't remember how tall it grew when I went to high school in Jinxi County. It was only when I returned home with my wife and children to visit my parents after working in a factory in Qingyuan Manchu Autonomous County, Fushun, that I suddenly realized that the poplar pole had turned into a big, thick and strong poplar tree.

In the evening, neighbors in the village street like to sit under the big poplar tree to cool off and chat. This big poplar tree has become a symbol that has entered the hearts of the people in the village without a word. Every time I go back home to the countryside, I will stay under the tree for a while. In summer, I sat under the tree, shaking the big fan my father used to fan the wind and drive away the mosquitoes. In winter, I would stand under the big poplar tree, leaning my shoulders on the cracked bark and watching the sunlight slowly trickle down the trunk. The sunlight seemed brighter in the countryside, and the big poplar trees looked cleaner and more dignified, as if they were silently speaking their minds.

I know what's on the mind of the big poplar tree because years have passed and my father's loud voice still rings in my ears.

Years passed quickly. Just as quickly as a poplar pole becomes a big, sturdy poplar tree. It was as if just one twilight had passed.

Father had reached dusk. Soon, night fell. Father was gone. That year, my father was 91 years old, and a full 48 years had passed since my father buried that poplar pole.

My father was gone, but he didn't use the big poplar tree for his coffin. The tacit understanding between my father and the big poplar tree was cracked. This made my heart vaguely regretful. It is always a pity that the tacit agreement between my father and the big poplar tree was not reached.

My mother and father had passed away, and the urge to return to the old courtyard faded in my heart a little. The memory of the big poplar tree also faded a little. But, fade, does not mean disappear.

The other day, I went back home with my sister and brother-in-law to see my mother and father at the grave.

Coming down from the mountain, I came to the old yard. My brother and sister-in-law were very enthusiastic about preparing things for us, all of which came from the vegetable garden. Brother plucked a big bundle of peanuts and asked me to pick off the peanut corners and take them with me. My sister-in-law cut a bundle of young leeks with a curved sickle and asked me to take it with me. My brother plucked a bundle of green onions and my sister-in-law went to the cabbage field and plucked a bundle of baby cabbages for me to take with me.

I put the things my brother and sister-in-law packed for me into the trunk of the car, when I suddenly noticed that the big poplar tree to the right of my yard was gone. My heart fluttered and I stood quietly for a while.

I don't know where the big poplar tree has gone and what it has done. But I did not ask my brother and sister-in-law.

I did not ask again, I know that the big poplar tree must be in another way, to complete the tacit agreement reached with my father.

When I started the car and slowly drove away from the gate of the old courtyard, my tears flowed silently, just like the big poplar tree growing silently upwards.