What happened when my father went to the city to deliver pears?

My relative and father called me several times to urge me to go home. He said that the pears in the yard were ripe and asked me to pick some and take them back to the city to eat. He said that if his leg hadn’t been injured, he would have Sending pears into town. When I receive calls like this from my father, I always hesitate to deal with him, saying that I will take time to go home when I have a break. But I thought in my heart that I would go home and pick some pears to take back to the city, as if there were no pears in the city. Not counting the time wasted on a trip home, the fare would be enough to buy dozens of kilograms of pears. Besides, there has been a lot of rain this year and the pears are not sweet. Therefore, I didn't take the matter of going home to pick pears to my heart and went about my own business.

Unexpectedly, one day before the Mid-Autumn Festival, my father suddenly appeared at the door of the house limping, carrying a snakeskin bag behind him, like an old man begging. I quickly took my father's snakeskin bag. It was quite heavy! My father followed behind me and reminded me that there were pears in the bag. Put it down gently and don't bruise the pears. When I heard that my father was delivering pears to the city, I complained angrily: "Dad, why did you come all the way to deliver pears? Your leg hasn't healed yet! At least make a phone call before entering the city so that I can pick you up at the station. Yeah!" My father was stunned when I complained, and after a long time he said: "You... you are busy and don't have time to go home and pick pears. I can't watch the pears rotting on the tree! Besides, it's the Mid-Autumn Festival. You can also use Li Jingyue!" My father almost blushed to express his good reason for going to the city to deliver pears.

My wife came back. When she heard that her father had specially sent pears to the city, she also complained. But as soon as she started to say a few words, I stopped her with a wink, but she still said the next sentence coldly. : "Dad, if you do this again, we won't care about you. You know, there are pear sellers everywhere in the streets and alleys of the city, and they only cost thirty cents a pound!" The father choked on his wife's words and became speechless, as if I walked into the wrong house.

My wife and I’s words had an unintentional hurt on my father. He ate very little at lunch. In the afternoon, he took out the pears from the snakeskin bag one by one, laid them flat on the dining table, and insisted on going back to the countryside. On the way to send my father to the station, my father was like a child who had done something wrong, with his head hanging down and limping in front of me. I advised him not to take his wife's words to heart, saying that she was also doing it for your own good! But my father just walked silently, wiping his eye sockets with his hands from time to time. Suddenly, a feeling of guilt came over me, and I wanted to persuade my father to stay, but he still stubbornly left.

When I got home, I saw green pears on the dining table. Suddenly, it seemed that the scene when my father and we were busy planting pear saplings more than ten years ago appeared in front of me...

< p> Just as I was immersed in reminiscing, my wife woke me up by saying, "Give the pear to the neighbor!" I numbly refused to say "no" and picked up a pear without peeling it. A sweet spring wells up in my heart. Seeing my expression, my wife snatched my pears and went to the kitchen to wash and peel them. When she handed me the peeled, snow-white pear, I whispered, "You should have a taste, too. The pears at home are so sweet!" Perhaps my wife heard what I meant, so she also peeled one and ate it. As soon as she took a bite, she said in surprise: "How come these pears are so crisp and sweet! It's hard to buy them on the market!"

The pears sent by my father were a wonderful meal for us, who have been suffering from rainy weather this year. A stomach that hates eating fruit. I thought to myself, how did my father grow such sweet pears?

One day, my wife and I went back to our hometown to visit our parents. In fact, we wanted to see my father with a sense of guilt. When I got home, my father was not there. I went to the field behind the house, but my mother was the only one there. After my mother made tea enthusiastically, I talked about my father’s gift of pears. Unexpectedly, after hearing this, my mother sighed heavily and said, "Your father is going to have to worry about the pear trees this year. He had heard from the weather forecast that there would be a lot of rain this year. As soon as spring started, he asked people to put up pear trees around them. When the pear tree is ready to bear fruit, he always pulls up a plastic sheet to protect the tree from the rain, saying that the ripe pears can retain their original flavor! He regards this pear tree as his own. If there are insects, I don’t spray pesticides. I would rather stand on a stool and stand on tiptoe to catch the insects. The fertilizer I apply is also farmyard manure. It is said that pears like this are considered green food.” Later, my mother told me: “ Your dad watched the pears grow and mature day by day. He often said, "When we are old, we can't do anything for our children. But our children are so filial to us. Only the pears on this tree make them sweet." . ”

Listening to my mother talking non-stop, my eyes were already moist.

When we walked into the courtyard, the bamboo pennant still standing quietly next to the pear tree was like a beam of light of love - what kind of fatherly love is that! At this time, my wife beside me said softly, Dad’s love is so delicate and deep!