What a familiar voice, how many years of wind and rain have accompanied me;

It never needs to be remembered, and it will never be forgotten.

There is no heaven and there is no earth, and there is no home without land;

There is no home without you, and there is no me without you.

I think a lot of people are familiar with these words, because they come from a very well-known song.

This song used to be popular all over the country and all over the country.

That's right, this song is nothing else, it is the theme song of the Taiwanese song and dance movie "Take the Wrong Car" directed by Yu Huanping in 1983 "If the Wine Sells Nothing".

This song and even the movie "Taking the Wrong Car" tell the greatest father's love in the world, the tree wants to be quiet and the wind is endless, and the son wants to raise but does not wait, teaching people to cherish their parents and cherish their relatives.

It's been a long time since I've written anything personal, so today I'm going to write some pretentious, disease-free moaning sentences, try to make amusement, and talk about my recent life.

At the beginning of October 2017, after more than three years of working and living in Shanghai, after having dinner and singing again and again with a group of friends, I returned to the place where I was born and raised, Shangyu District, Shaoxing City, Zhejiang Province.

The world is very big, and although we live together and are in the same global village, many people may not be able to meet each other in their lifetime.

I don't know how many people know about this place, how many people have been here, seen the scenery here, and seen the customs here, but in any case, it is special and unique to me.

The dew is white from tonight, and the moon is the hometown of Ming. Just because it's my hometown, just because it carries all my youth. The people I miss the most, the most beautiful scenery, and the best time are all here.

The green tree village is close to the edge, and the green mountain Guo is oblique outside. Open the noodle garden, and talk about the wine.

After the new rain in the empty mountain, the weather comes late in autumn, the bright moon shines among the pines, and the clear spring stone flows upstream.

The blue sky, the white clouds, the lush trees, the clear and winding river, and the rows of neat but not crowded houses make me feel infinitely emotional.

Immersed in the hustle and bustle of the city, the neon flash, accustomed to the bright lights, drunken gold, now looking at everything in front of me, my heart can't help but soften, as soft as the sea, as warm as the sun.

One person, one hometown.

The ground under your feet is a place that you can't let go.

Countless images come to mind like black and white film, which are countless interesting stories, countless happy ......

In a trance, I felt as if I had gone back in time, back to my school days.

Young and ignorant, less and nothing more, it was an innocent and beautiful time.

Home is a deep imprint in the heart of the wanderer, no matter the world, the north and the south, no matter rich or poor, home will always be the deep attachment in the heart of the wanderer.

Home, a gentle haven. No matter how much wind and rain you have endured outside, what kind of vicissitudes of life and red dust you have experienced, it will never betray you, it will always support you silently behind you, and accompany you through the most difficult and difficult days.

Here, there is no materialistic and lustful love, and there is no indifferent and ruthless human heart with interests first.

Here, some are really considerate and caring, and some are just sincere and tender.

It houses wandering souls, soothes wounded hearts, and sweeps away all tired signs.

When I came back again, my body, which was as tired as a seed that had dried up and was about to die completely, was nourished and recuperated again, and began to flourish again.

However, I also saw more things that I hadn't noticed or cared about before.

White clouds and dogs, the years are like knives, and knives urge people to grow old.

Flowers bloom and fall, wind, frost, rain and snow, cold and summer alternate, and things change stars. It turned out that the young and strong parents with black hair were already dipped in a lot of snow between the ends of their hair, and there were many wrinkles on their foreheads between their eyebrows. Their faces are much older than they were a few years ago.

And the older grandparents, their changes are even more striking.

Huafa took root early, and it was only half white hair, but now it is like snow, and on their faces, I can clearly see the scars left by the wind and rain of the years. The wrinkles and ravines are like the bark of an old tree. The originally straight body is now rickety, the body is thin and thin, and the eyes are full of wind and frost.

In the past, I always felt that there was still a lot of time to do, I still had enough time to do what I loved, I still had enough time to work hard for my dreams, and I still had enough time to wait for my dreams to come true before I could accompany my elders and do what they wanted me to do, to make them happy and happy.

However, for a split second, I felt like I was wrong.

Time waits for no one, if you pick up the flowers at night, all you pick up will be withered.

Lu You, a famous poet in the Southern Song Dynasty, once wrote such a poem: Xiaomo in the south of the city is in spring again, and he sees plum blossoms and no one is seen. The jade bones have long been in the spring under the soil, and the ink marks are still locked in the dust between the walls.

Nothing lasts forever, and no one can stay there forever.

Some things, some people, once they are not grasped when they should be grasped, then in the end, it will become a regret.

The tree wants to be quiet but the wind does not stop, and the child wants to raise but does not wait.

There is a regret that can never be remedied, and there is a pain that can never be healed.

The line in the mother's hand, the wanderer's shirt. Before leaving, I am afraid that I will return late. Whoever says an inch is careless, and he will be rewarded with three springs.

In October, the fetus is heavy, and the three lives are light.

The old mother is 100 years old and often misses her 80 sons.

Since ancient times, the love of parents for their children has been absolutely selfless and meticulous.

Mourn my parents, give birth to me, and work hard.

Today's society is an information explosion society, and at the same time, the competition for talents is unprecedentedly fierce. The pressure of life is really big.

But no matter how busy you are, no matter how frustrating your life is, please remember to go home often to see your parents and make them happy for a long time.

Father's love is like a mountain, and mother's love is like the sea.

The greatness of our parents is difficult for us to repay in our lives, but they have never asked us to repay it.

Please seize the time to cherish them, cherish your grandparents, and cherish all the loved ones who love you and love you.