The line in the mother's hand, the wanderer's shirt. The pen, the fun, the pavilion www.biquge.info are densely seamed before leaving, and I am afraid that I will return late. I believe that the vast majority of readers will have this poem by Meng Jiao in the Tang Dynasty. I remember when I was just in elementary school, this poem often wandered around the campus, maybe it is a catchy poem that is always unforgettable, but how can you not go through various processes at all stages of life, such as in the Book of Changes: Yuan Henry Zhen's cycle of heaven and earth, and only after my own experience did I understand the deep love of the elders.

The needle and thread in the hands of my dear mother, rushing to make new clothes for her children who are about to travel. Before leaving, a stitch was tightly sewn, afraid that his son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged. But who dares to say that the children's weak filial piety is like Xiaocao, and who can repay the kindness of a mother like Chunhui Puze. Meng Jiao used to be in power in Liyang County, Suzhou Province. One day, he was reading a book in his study, and after reading for a while, he felt a little tired, so he got up and walked to the window. At this time, the bright moon is in the sky outside the window, and the evening breeze is light. He looked up at the bright moon, and a sense of homesickness arose. I thought that I studied hard for decades, and it was not until I was in my fifties that I was admitted to the Jinshi and became a small county lieutenant. Every time I go to Beijing to take the exam, my gray-haired old mother is always busy preparing for herself before going out. Especially this time, the night before going out, the old mother sat under the dim lamp, sewing clothes for herself. While sewing, my mother whispered: "A few more stitches, and a little more dense, so that it will be strong and durable." You have to take care of your body when you go out, come back early, and don't let your mother worry about it at home.

At that time, as if hearing his mother's warm words, thinking of his mother's wrinkled face and frosty white hair, Meng Jiao felt sour, and he deeply felt how great his mother's love was, as warm as the spring sun. I once heard a friend tell a tragic and touching story of a "deer jumping gorge": an old deer and a young deer were chased by a group of fierce cheetahs to a canyon that was too wide to exceed the deer's jumping limit, but the old deer jumped without fear. As a result, there was such a magnificent scene in front of the Grand Canyon: after the old deer jumped, the fawn also flew up, and when it reached the middle of the canyon, at the moment when the old deer was about to fall to the bottom of the valley, the fawn fell on the back of the old deer, and with the back of the old deer as the fulcrum, the second jump was successfully realized, but the old deer sacrificed, and the fawn jumped on the other side of the canyon and survived. The maternal love of animals is still so touching, and the power of human maternal love is even more touching to the heavens and the earth and weep ghosts and gods. Meng Jiao's heart was very painful, the old mother was no longer there at this moment, but the bits and pieces of the past were always hidden in his heart, and he could only rely on memory to remember his mother. There are no parents in the world who do not want their children to be better than them. Maybe many people don't know very well, but when you become a parent, you know what it means: dedicate your whole body to you. What is filial piety? Wholeheartedly for you, without selfishness. Although the tears flowed, the kindness of parents should never be forgotten.