Grandma's funeral was organized by my uncle, because my father was penniless and couldn't even borrow money for the last funeral.

Grandma didn't have a wooden coffin, so Dad ended up painting one for her with a cement slab. There were no coffin bearers either, because cement-painted coffins were painted by the side of the grave. When she went to the ground, it was her father who carried her ashes to the ground.

I followed, and then I saw my grandmother's ashes.

It turns out that this is what people look like after they die......

There was nothing left but a handful of ashes......

My eyes blurred, and I let tears roll down my face. Because the person who loves me the most, loves me the most, and protects me the most in the world, now only a handful of ashes remains. No one will ever love me like that again, and no one will love me like that. When I am beaten and scolded, there will be no one to protect me and say good things for me......

I don't understand, why do people who are obviously living a good life suddenly get sick? And then will you die?

But what about the things I don't understand? For example, why should people quarrel with each other? Just like uncle and dad. Didn't they already experience the life and death of their grandmother? Why can't you get along well while you're alive? Do you have to wait until you die to know that you regret it and know how to cherish it?

That being said, the living will never understand......

Because we who have not experienced death have never understood the preciousness of life. Therefore, they do not cherish it and wantonly hurt it......

Grandma is gone, but the living still have to continue to live. I went back to school, but my dad was nowhere to be found. He doesn't care about me anymore, at least not now.

My grandfather and uncle promised my grandmother to take me to graduate from elementary school, so I didn't have to move out of my grandfather's house.

Dad wasn't at home, and not only that, but he didn't even leave a penny. So, I had to ask my grandfather and uncle for money for all my school supplies.

But they don't always give it to me, and the number of times they give it is much smaller than the number of times they don't. Also, I was often beaten and scolded. For example, the dishes are not cleaned, the pots are not cleaned, and I don't hear them call me......

I remember one time, I was cooking a pot, because the firewood was a little wet, so the fire at the bottom of the pot was always extinguished, and I stretched my head out to blow it in, trying to blow the fire. But not only did the fire not blow, but the whole room was full of smoke, and then my grandfather was annoyed and pressed my head and wanted to stuff it into the bottom of the pot. I cried in fright, but he hit me harder......

No one wants to be my friend anymore because I have neither snacks nor the freedom to have fun with them. If I go home a little late because I'm playful, or if I don't do housework because of this, I'll just be beaten and scolded......

Also, I hate those grown-ups, they always speak ill of my dad and talk about me......

They said, my dad ran away and doesn't want me anymore! When they saw the shoes I was wearing, they asked me, "Why don't you ask your grandfather and your uncle to buy you a new pair of shoes?" They looked at the clothes I was wearing and asked, "Where did you get this?" When they saw me playing with their children, they asked me who I gave me today, and you want to give half of the apples?

I don't want to take advantage of your children, I just want to play with them for a while. I am poor, I am pitiful, I have nothing. But you don't have to insult me like that, do you? I'm just a kid......

After that, I didn't want to play with anyone anymore and I started picking up trash. What kind of waste paper, bottles, as long as I can sell them for money, I will pick them up. I piled all the things I had picked up in my father's house.

I don't believe in those pens and notebooks, and I have to ask others every time I open my mouth.

I don't know how long I've been picking up trash, but I've saved a few bucks anyway. I think I can make my own money too, it's not much, but I'm happy.

Grandpa knew I was picking up garbage, and a few times I was scolded by him for coming back late for this, and he asked me to eat it.

"You've got what it takes, don't you? You can be full just by picking that one, so what else do you need to eat? You'll be eating that from today! ”

I don't dare to pick it up openly, every time I take advantage of my grandfather's absence, go out to pick it up for a while and hurry home.

I began to know how to read other people's eyes, get up early every day, sweep the floor, fetch water, carry firewood, and help my grandfather make pots. After eating, I cleaned up the dishes and chopsticks, and washed the dishes and brushed the pots very carefully. Then pack up and go back to school.

Sometimes my grandfather was in a good mood, such as when he won a card game, he would give me some pocket money. But it's not much, it's just a dime or a dime. My uncle gave a lot because he played big, and once he won, I went to call him home for dinner, and he gave me five cents!

And every time I would save that money, not much, but enough to save three or four dollars.

Grandpa would sometimes buy snacks and come back, such as apples and oranges. Sometimes my uncle will buy some melon seeds and come back. At that time, I was so happy, because it was rare, so I always ate it carefully. I'm afraid that it won't be gone when it's finished, but what I don't know is that those things always have to be eaten, no matter how careful you eat......