Winter

It has been several days since the beginning of winter, and the climate in the South is still warm and windy. Occasionally, a cold wind gets into the sweater. However, there was a lot of rain, which added some poetic flavor to the bleak winter. My friend sent them the scene of cedar in the north, which was covered with snow, branches standing and roots distinct, as if they were Enchanted snow towers by snow elves. It was particularly beautiful and could not help making people relaxed and happy. In fact, I don’t like winter the most. Because I am afraid of cold, I know that most women are afraid of cold, and I am no exception. Since I was a child, my hands and feet are cold as soon as winter comes, and even they are frozen, and I am not less guilty of cold winter. However, when I saw the snow scene in the north of my friend’s place, the box of my memory was opened immediately. Slowly open the room, it is a vast white world. Speaking of winter, the most touching thing is snow. I can’t say why, although it is still so cold, but she is so light, pure, white, always teach people to fall in love inexplicably, out of control, from then on, snow is like a pure woman, it falls into people’s hearts. Shanghai is a city without snow. I have been here for nearly two years and have never seen snow falling on the ground. Therefore, I don’t expect the coming of winter and have no surprise to expect. I can’t help thinking of the winter in my hometown, especially in my childhood. Maybe people living in the city can’t imagine such a picture. Winter in the countryside comes very early. Every family starts to prepare thick quilts, cotton-padded jackets and cotton-padded shoes early in the morning, although it is still sunny at noon, still can not cover the biting cold, breath into fog, repeatedly rubbing hands to keep warm. The sunshine seems to be short, and the countryside at night is especially beautiful. When the light was dim and quietly curled up in the warm bed, you could hear the sound of falling snow outside the window, which was powerful. Sometimes it was windy and windy, the branches were broken, and the wind blew, however, I stayed in a warm cabin, especially comfortable and at ease. Wake up early in the morning, the sunlight is very dazzling, open the door, a vast white world, fresh wind blows, suddenly feel refreshed. The long and narrow paths in the village were covered with snow, and the roofs of every household were also covered with snow. Rows of snowflakes were inlaid neatly on the branches, as if they were a fairy tale world. If you didn’t see it with your own eyes, you couldn’t imagine the joy in your heart at that moment. The gossams of thoughts began to float. I seemed to hear a deer cart stepping on the snow in the snow. Did you come to greet me? Snow White in my dream. Oh, no, maybe it was Santa Claus’s footsteps. He had come quietly, for fear of disturbing my beautiful dream. The memory of childhood is so beautiful that I don’t want to wake up. I wish I could stay in that dream forever. There was a piece of snow in the dream, and I wore a cape as a cloak, held an umbrella as a sword in my hand, rushed into the snow all over the sky to play swords and dance swords, which was a chivalrous female, play vividly at that moment. There is also the snowman standing alone in the snow, covered by thick snow, and then melted in the sunshine. Its smile has been deeply printed in my mind. [2] Winter Memories in rural areas should be the busiest in summer and autumn. Wheat, corn and peanuts should be harvested when they are ripe one after another. While winter is the most leisure time for farmers, but my grandmother is busy all the seasons. Xu was so busy that she always saw her busy with all kinds of things. In winter, what she was most busy with was making cotton-padded jackets, cotton-padded trousers and cotton-padded shoes for her children. When I was young, my hometown was self-sufficient. I grew cotton and made cotton-padded clothes by myself, which was much thicker and warmer than the cotton-padded jacket I bought. Although it looks a little fat to wear, even without so many patterns, it is the warmest symbol in our childhood. Often, when it was snowing outside, Grandma brought needlework and put the sole on line with snow-white light, so I watched. Made of cotton shoes, the soles bought by Grandma are very thick, in order to avoid being worn out, so each needle needs to be very hard, and each line needs two needles to be sewed firmly, grandma made cotton-padded shoes and cotton-padded clothes for the whole family, including children, grandchildren and even nephews, and we all had more than one pair. When it was sunny, I spread the straw mat in my own yard and spread out the quilt. Grandma started sewing the quilt again. I helped pull the quilt aside. Every year, Grandma’s eyesight gradually began to decline, I didn’t care about sewed anything, so I asked me to put a needle on her. I would put on a long thread for him and play with my own, in case she could not wear it after using it up soon. That was what I was willing to do for my grandma at that time. I often watched her busy, so I helped to do something within my power. Maybe I thought at that time, I was Grandma’s eyes. When it was sunny in winter, my grandma and I would rummage the whole family’s winter clothes, shoes and hats out of the cabinet and put them in the yard to dry, sterilize and eliminate the smell. After drying, we could wear them and prepare for the winter. I remember grandpa often told us at that time that we should shake and knock carefully before wearing clothes and shoes in winter to avoid insects inside. So we formed a habit that we must knock it upside down before wearing shoes to avoid something. There were too many fragments of memory in my childhood, which could not be pieced together to make a complete Prelude, but only a tiny bit of memory was enough for me to feel this point. It is so precious that I dare not forget it. Having followed grandma for so many years, I have learned nothing. She cooks, I am responsible for filling the fire and washing dishes, she is busy in farming, I am responsible for helping others and delivering things, she is responsible for making clothes, I am responsible for threading needles and leads, so that her omnipotent skills, I don’t know anything. At that time, I always thought my grandmother was my God and could rely on her. I felt very satisfied with her. After leaving home, I found myself a spoiled child by my grandmother, and I had no parents around me, without the careful care of Grandma, I began to miss those days at home more and more. The high school is in the county town, and it is about to live in the school. I can’t go home until Holidays. In winter, I have to buy thicker cotton-padded jackets and shoes, but it is not as warm as Grandma’s. Every winter, my hands and feet are still frozen, and I have Chilblain and swollen for a winter. Later, I was used to wearing the cotton shoes made by my grandmother and took them to school to wear them, feeling very warm. Until now, it was just that Grandma didn’t do it any more, because she didn’t have the strength to sew the thick sole. This year’s national day, I went home, and my aunt also came back to help with farm work. The shoes she wore were broken. Grandma saw them and said she would make them up. Aunt said no, don’t bother. Grandma insisted on getting needlework, still sewing with difficulty like many years ago, I stared blankly, just silent. [3] Winter Love someone said: a woman with cold hands was an Angel with broken wings in her last life. Because she broke her wings, she wanted to find an angel to warm herself. Once I firmly believed this sentence, because I believed that I was the Angel with broken wings and came to the world to find my own Angel. Angel, there will always be angels to love. Once upon a time, I was the woman who loved dreaming. In the cold winter day, dwelling in my own small world, under a faint light, I wrote a diary about love and beautiful fantasy. Maybe it’s just a fantasy. When I really face love, I fly away like a frightened bird. At that time, I went to college. It was winter. My classmate who had a crush on me for a year in senior three confessed. I panicked as if I had never prepared for love. Therefore, he rushed to my side from another city, knowing that I was extremely afraid of the cold, so he bought me warm gloves, hats and a big Velvet Doll, saying that he could hold it to keep warm when sleeping at night. When we went to sing and play, he always took photos for me behind me, knowing that I liked to take photos and leave a memorial. When one scenic spot came down, all of them were my photos, he was willing to be the person behind me, not appearing in the image of memory. From beginning to end, there was no lingering between us. Now think about the relationship at that time was really pure like snow, simple and pure. I just gave him an uncertain promise to have a try, and he treated me as a lover’s love and devoted himself to it. However, what is love after all? I can’t say it clearly until now. Sometimes I feel that I can’t afford to love, and sometimes I find that I have never understood love. The next year, it was still winter. He invited me out to play. We went to our alma mater in high school and talked about many memories of high school all the way. He told me that he had a crush on me at that time, but I have no idea. Walking like this, stepping on the snow falling on the homeland, my heart was full of emotion. Walking, walking, finally came to the end. Just like the memory of my alma mater, no matter how beautiful it was, it was the past. I clearly remembered that at that time, under the dim light of KTV, he wanted to hear me singing. After singing, he suddenly came over and said to me: Can I hug you? That hug was our first and only contact. Whenever I mention the word youth, I can’t help thinking of that young story. The youth story happened in winter, maybe he was just a memory, living in the coldest place in my heart, turning into a touch of warmth in the cold winter, melting my heart to become ice. That winter, that person, that time, I often thought: if we were together bravely at that time, what would be the ending? Maybe many things will not happen later, and I will not become as silent as now. But, everything is fixed. Fate comes and goes, it is fate after all, why do you never forget it? Now is the best. Winter has given me too many memories. If I count them one by one, it must be a Qing Ye epic. Most of the stories that happened in winter ended with tragedies. It was a pity that I could not hear sad stories any more in the following winter. If destined, winter can also be warm. Certain can. Winter is coming, and spring is not far away. Like (prose editor: drops of ink become wounds) the snow in spring

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