Some time ago, I dreamed that my mother prepared meals for us joyfully. We brothers and sisters all gathered around the side to see her old man holding a spatula and a kitchen knife, tinkling and rushing. That was the taste, the unspeakable beauty. When I woke up, I realized that it was a dream, and I was very disappointed; Only in the dream can I experience such a warm time again, and my heart unconsciously showed some sorrows. I know that I am homesick again and missing those smells belonging to my mother. Time is the most ruthless, time waves wash sand. Mother left us for ten years. Most of the time, I tortured myself, as time went on, how much we could remember those days, scenes, fragments of life and life that belonged to my mother; will the smell that mother left us always occupy our hearts and will not change? Will the subtle and natural nature of mother’s gestures arouse countless ripples in the bottom of my heart. I really dare not give a very affirmative answer. I am really worried. As time goes by, we will gradually forget these wonderful things that belong to our mother, and these smells come from our mother. I remember when I was young, when I was two or three years old, I lay on my mother’s back and went up the mountain to do some work with her. I went to relatives together. The oil my mother smeared on her head was very fragrant. It is neither the Orchid fragrance on the mountain in spring, nor the Gardenia fragrance at the gate in summer, nor the newly squeezed sesame oil fragrance. The fragrance is not clear, but it smells very good. This small bottle of head oil is a rare luxury for my mother. She uses one drop or two drops at a time and uses it carefully. It was not easy to have such a bottle of head oil. My mother had to save a lot of eggs before she could exchange them from the steward’s shoulder. In order to give one less egg, it was almost a good word to say, it seems that I owe a lot of favor to others when I hold the oil in my hand. My mother carried me behind her back and walked on the way. In the interlaced pace, the fragrance of head oil, straight drilling into the nostrils, was in a daze, as if a little intoxicating. When I was young, my family had a large population and less labor force, and the work points I earned were limited. Naturally, the food I got was less than others. It was not easy to eat a bowl of white rice. During the anniversary, we relied on melons and vegetables for a long time, radish, sweet potatoes and beans as long as we could fill the belly, they were all put on the dining table. Even so, it is hard for a family to have a full stomach. We don’t know anything, only know to eat and drink, there is a little food, most of them are into our belly, starving, are father and mother. My mother would pick a lot of potherb on the mountain field and eat it casually. But that’s it. My mother would try every means to cook three meals a day all the year round. Ancient language, make bricks without straw, mother of difficult, can be imagined. The bitter herbs of Mao Ye lived the same day. Now it was very light and skillful. But at that time, it was really bitter and hard to swallow due to lack of oil and salt. However, what could we do? Only those who were smart and quick-witted could get it. If they were a little slow, they could only watch what they put into the basket. The smell of mother is the smell of home. Although it is said that mother can not represent the whole family, compared with father’s seriousness and taciteness, and he often goes out to work, mother’s charm of home is stronger. Washing clothes with pulp, sewing and mending, daily necessities, oil and salt, sweet, sour and bitter, all left mother’s operation. Even if it was the work in the field, there would be no shortage of mother’s figure. If it hadn’t been for mother’s help, depending on the power of my father alone, the family life is still a little poor. Therefore, no matter which link we eat, wear and live, it has left mother’s hard sweat, which has melted into the taste of her life. We wear clothes, shoes and socks, and eat three meals a day, all contain the smell of mother, but I can’t feel it if I don’t think it carefully. When the economy improves and the family’s life improves a lot, mother will play tricks and improve three meals a day. Compared with the hard days I had, the life at this time was full of various tastes. Although it could not be compared with the present, it was really good to have so many patterns under the conditions at that time. Mao Xiangba on March 3rd, salted duck eggs that end Yang in May, fried chestnut with sugar in August and mid autumn, Ciba with heavy Yang in September, Laba porridge in lunar December 8, sweet potato sugar cooked at the end of the year, dried taro, frozen rice, tofu beaten at festivals and so on, there is nothing that does not melt into mother’s care for family members, and nothing that does not come from the smell of mother’s hands. It is because of mother’s kindness and shrewdness that we can enjoy so many delicious food. Only when we are enthusiastic about other people’s things can we make our family happy and happy. I don’t live in my hometown these years, but I can’t forget those pickles pickled by my mother. Although there are many very good pickles in Suzhou city, and the flavor is also very unique, I always feel that there is less flavor of the heart, after careful consideration, there is less flavor of the mother, if these varieties of Pickles passed my mother’s hands, they would never forget a taste in my life. My mother pickled pickles, green pepper yellow, radish White, Bean yellow, red pepper red, cut a plate, do not have to taste a chopstick, but look at those colors, the appetite increases greatly. Year by year, this kind of smell was immersed in my heart. When I left, I also followed me to thousands of miles away. When I missed home, it meandered into endless taste, fill the loneliness and sorrow in my heart. However, time is the most ruthless. Our life is not stable yet. Mother passed away suddenly before our return, leaving unspeakable sadness in our hearts, the smell of mother has already been specific to every day’s life, but most of the time, I don’t care too much, or I can’t calm down and feel it. However, as long as you touch the softness in your heart, the smell of your mother will appear leisurely. Deep in your heart, between thoughts, it is such an indescribable emotion, the smell of my home, which seems to be a little far away from me, and the smell of my mother are brewed into various tastes. I will never forget the smell of my mother in my whole life.

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