Lao He's prose

There are always many things in life, which are hard for many people to forget, and often become clearer with the passage of time. ......

I think of CSI because I saw a news on the computer yesterday. The title is "Zhejiang Bakers Walk on the Road of Literature, Microfilm Won the Highest Award in Asia", which tells the bitter course and dream-chasing years of a working writer named Zhao Lin. Somehow, CSI appeared in my mind, which was particularly clear, as if he was standing in front of my eyes, smiling at me simply.

Speaking of CSI, it's really a distant memory. It's been 20 years now. It should be the summer vacation of 1994. At that time, I was a high school student. That summer vacation, Shaanxi Writers Association held a "literary creation theory training class". Fortunately, I also participated in this training. There are more than 50 pen pals from Wen Peng who come to the training, from various regions in Shaanxi. Everyone has a different occupation and age. There are students, farmers and workers. The youngest is me, 17 years old, and the longest is over 60 years old, and I am CSI.

In addition to Xi 'an and its nearby students, students from other places are arranged to live in Gao Guizi's former residence in the Writers Association Hospital. Among them, the oldest CSI who lives with us is a farmer in Bin County. I remember that the training class had started for two days when he came. I just had lunch that day, so it's time to take a nap. I couldn't sleep because of the sultry weather, so I got up and sat at my desk reading. Just when I was fascinated, an old man who looked like a travel-stained farmer came in from the door. The stamping of his footsteps caught my attention. When I looked up at him, I met his tired and slightly frightened eyes. Seeing me looking at him, he quickly withdrew his sight, gently put his big bag on the ground, and then timidly asked, "Is this a literature training class?" I gave him a look and said yes, thinking that this person might be the parent of one of the students, so I came to see his children.

"I'm late, and my work in the field has been delayed. Are you registered here? " He asked me.

"No, no," I replied in my mouth, but I was always worried. It's really not easy to learn to make a fuss at such an age!

"You always sit down first, and I'll find the person in charge for you." I quickly told him to sit down first and then went to the office to find the person in charge.

It was not until the registration was completed that he saw a trace of relief in his muddy eyes. He opened the big bag, scooped a few plums and enthusiastically stuffed them to several people sitting around the table.

"Eat, eat, it's from your own tree." As he spoke, he pulled it out again.

"That's enough, old comrades. Let's try it. " Let's hold his hand and say.

He picked up his bag and followed me to the dormitory.

There is no rest. He goes to class with us in the afternoon. Because of his old age and dim eyes, he was arranged in the first row near the wall in the classroom, which made him very moved. He thanked the person in charge and said that he was placed in the first row when he came late, which was really sweet. The person in charge is a young girl, who is embarrassed by his repeated thanks. My seat was next to him. I was afraid that the little girl would be embarrassed, so I took his arm and said that the class was coming soon, and he calmed down.

Csi is very attentive in class, just like the expression of a primary school student in class. While listening, he kept remembering in his brand-new notebook, and every pen was very serious. It can be seen that this book is specially bought for this training. His expression is very serious, just like sitting in a church listening to the gospel of God. This expression and expression stayed with us until the end of the training class.

Every time after class, Lao He solemnly handed his notebook to the scriptwriter and teacher who gave the lecture and asked them to sign it for themselves. During this period, he will praise the teacher's lectures in the simplest language, with a sincere face and no hypocrisy. It seems that in his mind, the level and taste of such a big provincial capital writer should never be underestimated. Although he may not understand what they say, this is the profound point of a great writer. This was revealed in a chat with him later. However, he only determined that his level was really too low, and in his speech, he left traces of his infinite worship everywhere.

After a few days, we have become very familiar with each other, and we have read too much of his words. He said that he seemed to have read my article there because the name was familiar. I just smiled and said that I was just a student, and I only published a few articles, fearing that I would be put on a "top hat" when I met you there. He thought for a long time. Seriously, your name is familiar. I saw that he was serious, not like cheating. I thought about it and said that you should not have read my article Tuition in Yanhe. I say this because the rest of my published articles are not easy for adults to read and remember, whether in our county newspaper or in other provinces' student publications. He patted his head and said yes. He said he read the book when his granddaughter got it back. He was very moved to see the tuition. He said to several wretched children, look at how much they have suffered in order to learn. You still don't study hard. You really don't know how to be blessed! So he was particularly impressed.

Tuition is a short article I wrote about the ups and downs of going out to work for school and tuition. Actually, it's nothing good. I didn't expect the old man to remember it so clearly, and I was very moved. He didn't know what to say at the moment, but his heart was full of sweetness. My work does have readers. Can you say that I am unhappy?

Csi patted me on the shoulder when talking, saying that you are not easy! If you need money in the future, let me know and my uncle will help you. I quickly said no, you'd better keep the flowers for yourself. At this moment, my nose is sour, and I only feel that tears are coming out. So he turned around in a hurry and returned to the dormitory.

Csi likes books very much. In just a few days, he bought a thick stack of books, and his schoolbag was full. However, he eats sparingly, with the unique "petty" of farmers. One day, others took pictures everywhere as a souvenir, but he pulled the photographer over and said, please take a picture of my life. He held a knot in one hand, a piece of steamed bread in the other, and opened a book in the other, sitting at his desk and reading it carefully. After the photographer took the photo, there was no response for a long time. It turned out that he had long been fascinated by this book and never looked up again. The photographer sighed helplessly and said that he didn't see that he was still a bookworm!

Training is the hottest time of the year. At that time, the conditions were not very good, and there was no air conditioning in the dormitory. The high temperature continued and it didn't rain at all. It is so hot that people don't know where to stay. There are students who can't sleep in the middle of the night sitting outside the gate to enjoy the cool. Whenever CSI sits at this moment, he always says that if only he were in his pear garden at this moment. Then, with a sweet look of memories, he told us how cool and quiet his pear garden was. When he was thirsty, he picked a pear and took a bite. Immature pears have a sweet "sour taste", which cools and quenches thirst. Every time I say this, the listener feels sour in his mouth, as if he really took a bite of a green pear.

Speaking of pears, CSI's chatterboxes broke out. It is said that pears in Bin County are the best in Fiona Fang. They are delicious and melt in your mouth. Now exported abroad, foreigners are scrambling to eat. Speaking of which, there is a happy circle in my eyes, shining and whirring. He said that he must write an article about Binxian pears after the training. At this time, his eyes were full of pride, as if he smelled the smell of ink after his article was published.

After that, he did write an article about pears in Binxian County. After writing it, he changed it again and again, and then handed it over to an editor of Yanhe. I asked him if he was sure. He was confident and said that the editor said it was fine. I am also happy for him after listening to it. He said it was nothing. When he was in the army in his early years, he participated in the writing guidance of the propaganda department of the army. At that time, few people wrote articles in the army. He originally said that he would stay in the army. Due to many family reasons, he finally retired and returned to China. This stop is decades. When the children are all grown up and rich, he can't help but want to pick up the pen, pick up the dream many years ago, and sing a song "Morning Flowers and Evening Picks".

......

Speaking of which, he told me another interesting story about himself.

He said that since he had the idea of holding the pen again, he began to read books and newspapers, and also wrote articles during the period. Somehow, his comrades are now in the county cultural bureau. After a person in charge knew it, he was asked to write an article saying that the county cultural bureau would hold an essay contest. So he worked day and night, carefully wrote a manuscript and sent it to his comrades. The winning work soon ended. It rained that day. He was changing his rain boots when he learned the news that he had won the prize from the woman who worked in the county. Hearing the news, he happily ignored everything and rushed to the county cultural bureau a few miles away. As soon as I entered my comrades' offices, I bowed and thanked them loudly. Comrades quickly grabbed him and asked, "What is this? What is this? " Others looked at him and giggled. He just thought that people laughed at his strange behavior and didn't care. Until he came home, his daughter was very happy to see him. She took the woman next to her and said, Mom, look at my dad's shoes. He realized that he was in a hurry just now. One foot is wearing rain boots and the other foot is wearing cloth shoes. He looked neither fish nor fowl and couldn't help laughing.

Sometimes I will ask: "CSI, you are so old that you don't enjoy yourself at home. What's the point of tossing about this writing?" He said in a confident tone: "I regard this business as more important than anything else." This life is not easy. I want to write an autobiography to let future generations know how our generation survived that year. Be a writer before closing your eyes, so that you can walk steadily! "

It is true that CSI wants to be a writer. To this end, he also asked a strange question, which has always been an interesting talk in the training class.

Lao He said that there is a small river next to his pear garden. Not long ago, when he went to the pear garden and passed by the river, a 17-year-old female doll happened to jump into the river. After jumping, she probably regretted it, so she fluttered and shouted "Help". Seeing that the female doll was quite close to the shore, he picked up a bamboo pole and put it into the water to save the female doll. Later, he thought, if the girl doll was far away from the shore, if he lost his life to save the girl doll, but his dream of being a writer had not been realized (and his article won an award), could he be regarded as a writer and become a "member of the Writers Association" at that time?

This question is really strange. Chen, then chairman of the Writers Association, heard this story and said with a smile, "Why not? It doesn't matter. After death, this noble person who sacrificed himself to save others can still think that * * * was produced in party member, so he wouldn't be interested in approving a' writers association member'? The writers' association members are just a group of' fools' who suffer hardships. "

After listening to the chairman's words, CSI was so excited that tears kept spinning in his eyes. He said that the next time he came to the Writers' Association, he would bring enough pears he planted and give them to the great writers of the Writers' Association one by one. They are the most respectable good people.

A month passed quickly, and finally the training class was coming to an end. On the last night, everyone felt sour, as if they had just met yesterday and were leaving today. The newly established friendship will be tortured by the pain of separation, and from then on, the ends of the earth. Csi was very sad at the time. He came up to me like a child and said, "Baby, leave an address. Uncle values you, and you will succeed in the future. Don't forget uncle. Uncle is waiting for you in Binxian and Liyuan. When you come to write an article with us, my pear garden will be quiet. " I listened, listened, and tears could not help flowing down. ...

The sun hasn't come out yet, and it's especially cool in the provincial capital where the temperature continues to be high. The car flute in the street is noisy, like a group of children playing. The bus to Binxian County is very early. Csi packed her bags early and said goodbye to us. I always send him out of the writers' association.

"Baby, don't send. Remember to send one to your uncle when you publish a book, and then send it to you when your uncle's autobiography is written. "

I didn't speak, just bit my lip and nodded violently.

Csi left, far away, he turned around and waved to me. I also raised my hand, shook it, shook it ... until his figure disappeared in the hurried crowd. ...