In the third paragraph of Seeing the Weather from the Clouds, I wrote a simple explanation and vivid sentences.

That day, the noon sun was bright and white, and cars came and went in the street. I took my students to the movies and walked on the sidewalk. Suddenly I heard a car whistling softly. I turned around and saw my brother's bus passing me slowly. He gave me a slight sideways smile, and his dark face appeared soft luster.

19 years ago, I graduated from normal school. It was also a sunny day. My brother asked for leave and came to Suzhou to pick me up two days earlier. This is his first time out of town. His mother asked him to stay in Suzhou for two days. At that time, we had no classes. We just get together every day to say goodbye before graduation, but we didn't think of going to be with our brother. My brother travels back and forth in Suzhou, a strange city. He told me that he had a good time.

Because my father has been ill and my mother is a private teacher, she has to teach and farm. Almost alone, she took on everything inside and out, and because she missed the farming season, she cried helplessly in the field many times. My brother began to share his mother's fatigue very early. 65,438+03, 4-year-old, went to the field to plant seedlings and pick rice after school. After graduating from junior high school at the age of 65,438+05, he gave up his studies, entered a textile factory under construction, dug in the newly started construction site, took part in the construction, went home to farm after work, and began to undertake the main physical labor at home. Because of this, at the age of 19, my brother gave up the ideal of enlisting as a soldier that he had been expecting since childhood and devoted himself to work and farming.

When I was in junior high school, my brother had not graduated. Every morning and evening, he drives me to and from school by bike. He arranged things like steamed rice and cooking. I remember he always took care of me to go to the canteen a few minutes late at noon, because at that time he was waiting in line at the crowded window to cook. Later he came into the factory and invited me to his factory for lunch. Every time I go to dinner, someone always jokes that a little brother with a little sister-15-year-old brother is very small, and then it doesn't grow much. I guess it must be because he picked up the burden of the family with his immature shoulders too early. Once I went to dinner, an aunt in the factory told me mysteriously that my brother almost fought to buy the last piece of meat pie today. I walked to the canteen with a grain of salt. My brother was waiting for me at the door, and the bright sunshine at noon covered his thin body with a layer of golden light. He proudly pointed to the patties in his rice bowl and told me to eat them. I have to give him half. The younger brother patted his stomach and said, "I have already eaten." Now that my brother is making money, my sister can eat whatever she wants. "

On the last day of normal school, my brother helped me pack my bags: there was a washbasin and a thermos bottle in the net bag, and my clothes were in the suitcase. Huge snakeskin bags are bulging with bedding, and large and small packages pile up into a hill.

People left one after another. When I left, the rest of my classmates took me to the station. Walking on the road, we huddled together, comforted each other and made various agreements. My brother came last alone, carrying the orange suitcase on his shoulder, a washbasin and a thermos bottle in his hand. He walked quietly and listened carefully to what we said. In the sun, he fell to the ground like a huge camel.

I don't remember what happened. The tickets to go home are not the same car. My brother caught me on the bus. I only had a small bag on my back. Two hours later, I waited for another bus alone with that pile of luggage. When I entered the ticket gate, I looked back with tears and waved to my classmates who sent me away. I saw my brother bend down again to tie the net bag, and then carefully moved the net bag under the seat in the waiting room.

My brother came home late-it's almost an hour's walk from the station in town. It was already dark when he appeared at the door with his suitcase, snakeskin bag and net bag.

My brother's job has changed a lot. A few years ago, my brother was laid off and couldn't find a job anywhere. He became more and more silent. Later, he quietly rode a motorcycle to the Yellow Sea hundreds of kilometers away for one day and one night. When he came back, he swept away his melancholy expression and began to learn to drive very hard.

Those disappointments in my life have never been revealed by my brother in front of my family. When my mother secretly told me these things, I can imagine that my brother's repressed heart made him breathless. I can imagine that my brother walked alone on the sunny road with these setbacks like the wind-just like he silently shouldered the burden of his family from childhood but never gave up.

My brother has always been proud of me. When I was in junior high school, he found my name on the red list and proudly told his classmates that it was his sister. Now, as long as he sees my name in the newspaper, he happily points to the tofu-like article and tells others that it was written by his sister.

I always thought my brother was a big tree, but I didn't expect him to be only two years older than me. That day, I pointed to the bus that was far away and said to the students, Look, my dear brother is walking on the sunny road!