The father picking up steamed bread

At the age of 16, I was admitted to the best high school in the county. Heard people say, the entrance to this school is equal to one foot into the university. My father was delighted and told me that he hoped I could be admitted to university in the future, so that I would not have to work in the office in the future.

It happened that one of my relatives in the county was going to move to the provincial capital. They wanted my father to take care of the house and suggested to him that raising pigs in the county was a way to get rich because there were more people in the county and the consumption level was high. My father readily agreed that it was a good idea and that he would take care of me while I was in the county.

After I read a semester in high school, my father also built a pigsty in the county and bought piglets. I used to stay at school, and on Saturdays I would spend the night with my father to help him take care of the pigs, so that he would have time to go home and push the feed.

Pigs gradually grow up, the feed at home has been eaten, relatives sent to our home feed is also decreasing. Buy feed, and can not come up with money, father all day looked worried.

I also worry on the eyebrow anxious in the heart, but also helpless. One day when I went to the canteen to eat, I found that many students often throw steamed buns, pour food, I suddenly thought, pick up these things to feed pigs is not good.

I went back to tell my father, father was happy to clap his thighs, said it was a good idea, the next day he went to pick up steamed bread leftovers.

【 Two 】

I was happy that I had solved a problem for my father, but I did not realize that it caused me endless trouble. My father's black turban, dirty clothes and rough hands immediately became the object of many classmates' fun. They added insulting nicknames such as "beggars" and "black rubber" to their father.

I am a mountain village out of the child, I am not afraid of hard conditions, not afraid of falling pain, but afraid of others discrimination. Fortunately, my classmates did not know that it was my father. I also tried to avoid my father. Every time he came, I would stay away from him.

But my inner fear of being found out and discriminated against grew day by day. Finally one day I said to my father: Dad, you don't go, don't let people know, will laugh at me......

The joy vanished from my father's face. In the dark night, only the father's smoke pot a red, for a long time father said: I go or go! I won't say hi to you. These are the days when pigs are fattening up. No one can starve.

And I cried. Sorry father, I really love you, but you are picking up steamed bread in the school, I am afraid of being looked down upon by others!

In the following days, my father continued to pick up his steamed bread, and I read quietly and peacefully. I often saw my father staring at the bulletin board with the results. Fortunately, I was at the top of the class to comfort him, I thought.

【 Three 】

In the winter of 1996, my final exam results ranked in the top three of the grade, but also published a lot of articles, suddenly fame. The class is going to have a parents' meeting, the teacher said, let your father come.

My heart suddenly cold, I do not know how others know that the steamed bread is my father will laugh at me. With the wind and snow back home, I said to my father: dad, you don't go, I said to the teacher you are sick......

My father's face was ugly, but he didn't say anything.

The next day, I carried the snow rushed to the school, sat in the classroom. Parents meeting began, applause and laughter, but I have been Yan Yan dull, cold in the heart. Father ah, why do you happen to be a farmer, but pick up steamed bread in our school!

I inadvertently listen to the teacher and parents talk, will look out of the window. Oh my God! Father, my father picking up steamed bread is standing outside the classroom scrupulously listening to the teacher and parents talk, his black cotton-padded jacket covered with thick snow.

My tears just poured down my face. I rushed out of the classroom, pulled my father in, said to the teacher: This is my father. Applause burst into waves...

On the way back, my father was still carrying two buckets of steamed bread and food he had picked up. Father said: you don't need to feel inferior, others discrimination is temporary, a man, as long as the effort, others have, we will have.

After that, the students never made fun of his father, and all consciously poured the leftovers into his father's big iron bucket. In the golden autumn of September 1997, my father sent me to the provincial capital to study at university. Our rustic attire stood out in the colorful campus, but I was calm, without the least fear of being laughed at. I understand, in this world, discrimination is always inevitable, the key is to look up to their own. As my father said: the discrimination of others is temporary, a man, as long as we work hard, others have, we will have.