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I am a farmer

Time: 2015-05-09 Source: Reprinted Editor: Lonely Patient Reading: Times

Although I look like a city man, my heart is still peasant.

I originally wanted to imitate Zhang Mingmin's song to start a good essay for this essay. It's just stupid.

However, write your own state of mind.

I always wanted to be a farmer.

Remember, in the almost desperate spring of 1970, I returned to my hometown from the college and worked as a farmer for more than three months. Every day, carrying a hoe, stepping on the bell of work, and walking towards the mountains. Along the way, talk and laugh with your childhood partners. The fields are fragrant.

Until the college was evacuated from Beijing's combat readiness to Raoyang, Jizhong, and the telegram urged me to return to school, I was still very tangled: go and stay.

Mother never speaks. The third brother seemed to be hesitant.

One of my childhood friends asked me to drink: Fuck! I have read a book for 17 years!

My friend kept going blind, for a while, Hailin, Heilongjiang, and Xining, Qinghai. He said: If you stay for a year, you will regret it. Besides, how can you get a college diploma?

Listen to people's advice and eat enough. I have nothing to worry about.

However, the hearts of peasants returning to their hometown are always looming. It seems that in 1989, there was a similar impulse. However, impulse is just impulse. Knowing that I have a home, I have two daughters, and I have responsibilities.

Country, gave me eternal psychological hints.

It is said that childhood is a crucial period that determines the direction of life.

When I was bare, I followed my father all day, like a tail, to the vegetable garden, to the fields. My father was busy in the crops. I will dig wild vegetables or catch grasshoppers. Bare feet often get stuck in Tribulus terrestris. At that time, it really was: pain and happiness.

To this day, I still remember a few plots in my home: behind the temple, Nanbo, Dongying, Goupi, Nanyuan. During the land reform, my grandma kept harvesting the title deed and hid it in a small iron box in the attic until the Cultural Revolution.

My father's feelings for the land seemed to flow in me and in my blood.

When I was in Hebei, there was a yard at home, not big. In a small yard, I planted a cucumber and raised 7 chickens. Cucumbers satisfy a summer supply. Eggs are inexhaustible. In winter, I put a light in the chicken shed to warm it up. Chickens are loyal to their duties throughout the year. With a gray hen, sometimes two eggs can be laid a day. When we moved our family from Hebei to a small town, we couldn't bear to kill the chicken and gave it to the nanny.

To this day, I still miss the time when there was a small courtyard.

Planting, watering, soil loosening, hitting ... a cucumber gave me too much happiness.

I have been trying to own a small courtyard house. A few years ago, I always searched for sales information online. An old house on a red light farm in the northern suburbs of Tianjin, as well as a newly developed community on the Jiaodong Peninsula. I want. The family members are authentic urbanites, as are the daughters. Of course against it. Many people around me bought a house in Jiaodong and lived there in the summer. Once, an acquaintance came back from there and said: why can't you buy a set in your hometown. Dig a pit there, light up pumpkin seeds in spring, and give you a big pumpkin in autumn. Make me envy drool.

A friend of mine and company secretary actually rented land in northern Shaanxi. The couple lived there for two years. Although they are all Xi'an people.

Right now, too many rural people have left the countryside and left the land. Is the weight of land in people's hearts getting lighter and lighter?

How many people, like my father, will be devout admirers of the land all their lives.

In fact, it is an extremely precious psychological quality and moral dependence of the nation. Without land, will we have nothing? From material to spiritual ...

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