One gloomy afternoon, I raised the Model 88B Main Battle Tank in my hand and looked at the object carefully, but what I didn't expect was that this long-ago model still exudes freshness and magic, perhaps because I haven't looked at it for a long time, or for other reasons.

Her brisk steps walked away in the birch forest, remembering when we first met, and it was in that birch forest that I gently handed her a cup of tea.

She took it slowly, took a sip close to her mouth, and under the light of spring, her already ruddy little face added a little luster.

We have a common ideal for the construction of this powerful motherland.

She had a book in her hand, a biography of a red novel, and she always liked to hold this book and wait for me in the birch forest, discussing problems together, joking together, and joking together.

Her steps were always so brisk, and she made a crisp sound on the fallen leaves, and we were there for each other.

I remember when I was a child, others said that she didn't have a father, so her personality was always very withdrawn.

Every year in April, she always squatted at the entrance of the village, looking forward to the figure, the figure wearing green camouflage and holding a steel gun.

I would also walk over and wait with her, until ten o'clock at dusk, when wisps of cooking smoke flew overhead, and when the swallows on the southern tour returned to the north, and waited until ...... She will always accept the facts.

I once went to her house to play, and there was a white coat on her clothes hanger, which was made of good material but very old, and I didn't know why, so I turned my head and asked.

She said

"It's a white robe"

Then he gently handed the fruit to the old man on a small plate and held her hand.

"You're going to be fine...... Mother ......"

I always stood outside this door like this, watching things happen, I didn't have words, I couldn't ask anything, I just waited, waited.

When I walked out the door, she always looked at my back, her little skirt fluttering in the wind, her hands on her sides, and her eyes filled with tears.

Overhead, the glorious four big characters look particularly bright in the sunlight.

"Military Family ......"

I sent some daily necessities, vegetables and fruits to her home from time to time, so gradually, she was not restrained by me, and even had a good impression, but I didn't know it, naively left that back at dusk.

She always looks at her, but I know that she has a touch on her heart.

"Are you alive...... Health for good, compassion for compassion... Don't thank me" Whenever I said this, she always looked at me with envy, and then left her back in her anticipation.

Our childhood life was beautiful and sweet, she always carried a small bag and wore knee-high socks to wander through the birch forest, and her heart stayed there, as if people were there.

"You're here?"

"Yes, I'm coming"

It's hard to imagine what she was like when she first moved here with her mother in '08, carrying a heavy bag, a tired and panting mother, and her aggrieved and dazed expression.

In 2008, the financial storm of the southern snowstorm, a sudden natural disaster, took away her father and the beautiful memories of her childhood.

When she grew up, she went to the cemetery alone and returned to the place where she grew up alone.

A huge stone clock, forever frozen in that time, thousands of souls gathered here.

Or maybe she crouched in a corner and slept quietly in the wind, and I stood by her side, not to wake her up, as she was reunited with her father.

When she woke up again, she followed me to the road, and the wreckage, the cry, the despair, reappeared in front of her eyes like an old movie.

She lacks fatherly love, she doesn't know what it means to admit defeat, she just knows how to move forward.

When hope came to this land again, her father seemed to be walking side by side with her on this path of hope.

His rough hand rested on his daughter's shoulder, and he walked with her, side by side, with a cigarette in his mouth.

The rusty Bayi cockade on the head was weathered, and the mother and daughter walked forward.

"Sorry, I'm late......"

"No, you're here...... Just right"