Chapter 2 first snow

Shishi, my child: If there is a source for the fragrance of flowers in May, and a place for the stars of December, I know that is where you come from. Pain and joy are so sharp these days that I marvel that there is so little distinction between them.Whenever I suffer for you, I always feel that the cross is so light, so I suddenly understand my love for you, you are the early spring, bringing the fragrance to the garden secretly. Of all mankind, I have the right to be the first to love you.They have to see you, know you, know you and decide to love you, but I don't have to.Your smile soars in my dreams, concrete and real.I love you is nothing to boast about, in fact no one can resist the love for a child.

When you came, I became a thoughtful person. I have never thought deeply about the meaning of life, respected the value of life, and was moved by the sanctity and solemnity of life for the first time. Because of you, I love all human beings, even those golden chickens, even those young trees that sway when they walk, they all make my heart ache. I inevitably think of war, of one of the most irresistible human tragedies.Our generation, like fungi, lives in the shadow of war, and our childhood was spent on congested trains and bumpy ships.And you, what kind of era can I give you?We can neither go back to the poetic nineteenth century, nor retreat to the mythical Alps. We are destined to live in this miserable age and China.

My child, every time I think about it, I apologize to you. The stupidity and meanness of human beings have trapped themselves in a miserable fate.And Ling, on this earth full of nuclear terror, what do we have for newborn babies?Not gold locks, not champagne, but the nuclear power of an average of one million tons of TNT per person.Child, when you look at the world with eyes of utter trust, do you see the weapons of cruelty hanging over your little cradle?And your parents' big bed? I was born into a world like this, maybe I was wrong.God knows what kind of journey we have in store for you.

But, child, we still want you to come, we want you to learn to love humanity with us and suffer with humanity.Soon, you will learn to shed tears over the tragedy of it all -- and how much our generation needs such tears and prayers. Shishi, my child, I have become tough and brave with you.I can face the cold death without fear of its sting, I face the suffering of childbirth and still feel it.For you, child, I will overcome them.I have never loved life so much as I do now. You have taught me so many mature thoughts and noble sentiments, and I am grateful for you. A few days ago, I suddenly remembered the sentence in the "New Testament": "Although you have not mailed him, you love him." I immediately understood how independent love is.You will come when more northerly winds blow over the tops of Youjiali, and when the first whiteness of the first thunder begins to fall from the peaks of the high mountains.And before your coral-coloured limbs start waving in this world, before your black jade pupils shine on this city, you have our complete love, and we will teach you to know to be loved before you are a child.Shishi, we promise you to give you a happy childhood.

As I write this, I vaguely recall those beautiful springs in the south of the Yangtze River, and we always lean on the small window of the train. The train goes around mountains and water, and the days seem to continue like that. Wild rhododendrons in the mountains and valleys!Mountains and valleys full of desolate and beautiful sorrow! We are a generation that understands sorrow too early. As for Shishi, your age may not be without sorrow, but we will always give you a rich childhood. There is no house on the roof where you live. There is no wealth in this world, but there are many loves, many books, and many ideals. and dreamy.We will build you a bed of roses in the story, and you will play and rest on the soft petals.

When you gradually get to know your father, Shishi, you will be amazed at your luck, he is honest and noble, he is kind and kind.Slowly you will also discover how deeply your parents love each other.After so many years, their love is still like the pine wind in the forest, fresh and fresh. Shishi, my child, don't think this is inevitable, not every child has such luck.Not every parent in this world loves each other.How many children have wept alone in the dark, and before they have formally entered into life, the meaning of life has been denied.Shishi, Shishi, you don't know the pain of disillusionment, which is the first tragedy before all tragedies.In fact, the entire human race is killing each other, and history has not taught humans to love each other.Shishi, you go teach them to love each other, as that poet philosopher said:

They are brutally greedy and jealous, and their words are like hidden blades thirsting for blood. Go, my child, go and stand in the midst of their displeasure, and let your gentle eyes rest upon them, as the evening mist drowns the strife of the day. Let them see your face, my child, and know the meaning of all things, and let them love you, so they can love each other. Shishi, one day you will understand that God will not allow you to hold on to the love you inherited, Shishi, love is a bud, it must bloom.It must offer fragrance in the thrashing of pain. Poems also teach us to learn more and higher love.I remember a few days ago, an advertisement of a drug dealer made me horrified.The advertisement said: "Children, you should not be weaker than others. The health of the next generation is related to our face. If children grow up healthier, more beautiful, and happier than others, it will be a great honor." Shishi, The despicableness of human nature made my teeth grow cold.Shishi, I love you, I promise you, I will never mix impure ingredients in my love for you, you are you, you will never be compared with others by us, you don't need to satisfy the vanity of your parents heart and pain.You are always outstanding in our eyes, you can be poor, you can fail, you can even be down and out.Shishi, if we are proud, we are proud of ourselves, not for your health, beauty or intelligence.You are a human being, not a shrub we cultivate, and we would never prune you into a shape to make others admire our horticultural genius.You can grow with your inclinations, and we all like—or learn to like—whatever style you choose.

We will try to get to know you, we will bend carefully to hear you tell the secret wishes of a child, and we will help you through the dreary teenage years with sympathy and understanding.And when you are an adult, Shishi, we are still willing to share your sorrow, there are always some sad and helpless things in life, Shishi, if you feel lonely in the days to come, please remember your mother, our life Once connected, I will try to make this connection last forever.Let me say again, Shishi, we will try to understand you and your era.We will trust you - God never sends bad babies. We will pray for you, child, we do not know when those old and peaceful days will return.We may never see that kind of good life in our lifetime.

If this kind of peace can never be repeated, then, Shishi, it is irresistible and irreversible.I can only bless your soul with inner peace in these difficult times. Always remember, Shishi, you are not only our child, you also belong to the mountains, the sea, and the cloudless sky in May—and all of these will always be the theme of human joy. You are about to grow up, child, every time you vibrate gently, love surges rapidly in my heart, you are a small bud, hidden in my deepest heart, like music hidden in a long flute. A few days ago, someone told me a beautiful Japanese story.Speaking of every winter, on the day when the snow fell, people would sit in the courtyard, silently staring at the pieces of soft white.

What a godly and moving sight that was!At that time, I thought of you, Shishi, you are the first snow in our life, pure and noble, deeply moved me.Those surprises and love for life often make me have the urge to cry in silence. Poetry, give our earth some beautiful white.Shishi, our first snow.