Colorful years

In this complex world, everyone is busy making a living, but family is our warmest harbor.

In this haven, there are two crucial figures—the father and mother—who, in their own ways, silently protect this family and provide a vast haven for their loved ones.

My father is the pillar of our family; his figure is always so tall and sturdy. Whether it's the pressure of production or the difficulties of life, my father always steps forward, using his broad shoulders to shelter his family from the wind and rain.

His arms seemed capable of bearing all burdens, allowing his family to live peacefully under his protection. Whenever faced with difficulties and challenges, his father never flinched, showing us with his unwavering gaze and resolute actions: with him by our side, nothing is a problem.

His perseverance and tenacity have subtly influenced us, teaching us to be indomitable and courageous in the face of difficulties.

In terms of the very existence of a family, the mother is of paramount importance. As long as the mother is alive, the family exists; when the mother dies, the family ceases to exist.

In Congcong's deepest memory, her mother is the soul of the family. She is like a warm spring breeze, gently caressing the heartstrings of every family member.

She upheld the virtues of diligence and thrift, keeping the house in perfect order, filling our lives with warmth and comfort. Every morning, as the first rays of sunlight streamed through the window, my mother had already begun her busy day.

Her busy figure moved between the kitchen, living room, and bedroom, preparing a sumptuous breakfast, cleaning the rooms, and washing the family's clothes...

Her hands seemed tireless, always managing to arrange everything in the house perfectly.

Besides managing household chores, the mother devoted all her energy to being a good wife and mother.

She patiently taught the children how to conduct themselves in society and cared about their academic progress and mental and physical health.

Whenever her child encounters setbacks or difficulties, the mother is always the first to step forward, offering the most heartfelt comfort and encouragement. Her words are like warm sunshine, dispelling the gloom in her child's heart and helping them to cheer up and bravely face life's challenges.

Whenever the night is quiet, Congcong always thinks of his mother's hardworking figure day and night.

Those details that I had previously overlooked now flooded my mind like a tide—the new wrinkles on my mother's forehead, her increasingly rough hands, her tired yet still gentle eyes…

All of this speaks volumes about the hardships her mother has endured silently over the years. Tears streamed down Congcong's cheeks, dripping onto the back of his hand, as if carrying with them endless longing and gratitude.

He knows that his healthy growth is inseparable from his mother's hard work and selfless dedication. Therefore, he cherishes every moment spent with his mother and strives to become a child that makes her proud.

Compared to her father, Shi Daya's dedication to the family was even more evident in every detail.

During that busy farming season, she had an exceptionally hard time every day. In the early morning, before dawn, she had to rub her sleepy eyes and hurriedly get up to go up the mountain and into the fields with the old man to do collective work.

In the fields, she toiled diligently under the scorching sun or in the biting wind. Sweat soaked her clothes, but she didn't bother to wipe it away, silently cultivating the land, hoping to harvest more grain to feed her family.

When night fell, the exhausted Shi Daya dragged her heavy steps home, but she couldn't rest immediately.

She also had to start doing housework non-stop—laundry and cooking, of course, in addition to feeding and caring for the pigs in the pigsty and the chickens in the chicken coop.

Often, by the time everything is finally settled, the moon is already high in the sky.

Even during the relatively quieter off-season for farming, Shi Daya remained constantly busy.

She used every spare moment to mend clothes, make insoles and cloth shoes for her family... Her hands seemed to be working tirelessly, weaving warm dreams for her family.

Especially after winter sets in and the weather gets colder, Shi Daya works tirelessly day and night to ensure that the children can wear warm and comfortable winter shoes in time.

Countless nights, under the dim light of an oil lamp, one could see the needle and thread in her hands flying up and down, dancing like a graceful butterfly.

Her gaze was focused and earnest, as if she were engaged in a sacred creative endeavor. She worked tirelessly until dawn, all so that the children could wear the cotton shoes she had made by hand and feel the warmth of her mother's love.

Congcong, as Shi Daya's son, was especially doted on by her. He was more considerate and sensible than her daughter, and always understood his mother's hard work and difficulties.

Whenever he sees his mother busy at work, he silently goes over to help; whenever he hears his mother's caring words, he tries to feel her deep maternal love.

He knew how happy and lucky he was to have such a warm family and a loving mother.

Therefore, he cherishes this hard-won family bond even more and strives to become a child that his mother can be proud of.

I remember those days when my mother, Shi Daya, had just given birth to my younger sister, Chunlan, and was in the crucial postpartum period.