At that time, it was a planned economy, food was distributed according to the population, there were many people in our family, my sisters had grown up and my grandmother had been living with us, and I was tireless every day, running all over the village in the dark, food consumption must have been very large, so the food I received was not enough to eat, I still remember complaining to my mother when I was a child:

"Mom, don't you know how to cook, only gruel." When I was a child, I drank porridge every day at home, even at noon and night, and my mother always comforted me quietly:

"It's good to drink porridge, you don't have to drink boiling water." After my father came back, my mother told my father about my complaints, and my father later told me this story of hardship: "In order to let a few of our "little mice" have enough to eat, my father used the time after work to go to a wasteland on the edge of the mass graveyard to open up wasteland and farm, the rice field is on the edge of the grave group, at that time it was all burial, the person just died and buried in the ground is really stench, mosquitoes and flies flying, in order to prevent mosquitoes from biting him, I wrapped my legs and body in the mud and worked until nine o'clock in the evening, until my mother stood at the entrance of the village and shouted to go home for dinner, and after dinner he continued to grow mushrooms and feed the pigs, and went to bed until two or three o'clock in the morning. Every day when I get off work and arrive in the next village, I start to take off my clothes, and I start to plan what work I want to do before what time I want to finish it, make sure that it is finished before two o'clock, after I finish arguing with soybeans, drink some earth shochu and sleep, get up at five o'clock in the morning, feed the pigs, and go to work after getting the mushrooms; Every day, every year, for several years in a row...... During this period, I thought about suicide several times, and my life was really difficult, but when I thought of you "little mice" waiting to be fed, I gritted my teeth and persevered, if I died, you brothers and sisters would have to give it to others...... In order to save a little food, I begged for some leftover food and soup after working in the farmer's house every day. (Later, when I grew up, I understood why my father had cried for three whole days after the death of a dog: his bitterness seemed to be known only to the poisoned dog.)

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"Looking at the City" Dad is planting grain in the middle of the hand, please wait a moment,

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