Appreciation of An Leisheng's prose in "Needle and Thread (Part 2)"
Every stitch is not a simple matter. The clothes and pants on the wanderer's body are tightly sewn, and the mother's instructions will follow you like a shadow. A person's life is important, but important things are actually controlled by small opportunities, just like a season's harvest only starts from humble seeds, and the crippled Hawking once said: crawl through Time wormhole can discover another parallel universe. The mother's stitches and silk threads embroidered on her body will always be imprinted with warm caress, just like a kite, no matter how high it flies, it cannot do without caring hands. When we stare at the vicissitudes of time, many past events have long been blurred, but that kind face always blooms with a poetic mood like a lotus. No matter how old we are, we will never fall asleep with each stitch. We will always express Shuyi's feelings consistently. The ups and downs are dazzled by the sun and the moon. The light and dark are shining with the perseverance and growth that penetrate the annual rings. The fragrance of the heart is lingering. The knot is filled with endless care and thoughts.
Mother was immersed in mending her clothes. Her frail figure was reflected on the smoky wall. It was not very conspicuous, but when it was projected into my heart, it reflected the sublime splendor that could not be concealed. It was the same as the sky outside the house. Zhuoyao's stars are each other's exterior and interior, splashing out the best large-scale ink paintings of "home", and also expressively opening up the eternal era of children and lambs kneeling at their breasts. Each stitch and thread is a wooden carving knife, carving maternal love deeply into the core of my heart, giving birth to the supreme scenery. The mother's eyes are usually very gentle, and she guides her children. Her face is full of endless tranquility, as well as the comfort and glory that cannot be hidden, and her diligent posture creates a kind of unchanging persistence. It's called home. Sometimes, she also sighs. The suffering of lack of food and clothing makes her frown, and she is determined to do something. However, she has nothing to hand, has nowhere to use her energy, and is poor. The hardship stings her fingers, but the blood is flowing. Flow in my heart.
Every stitch is the labor scepter of the family king. When it is enlightened by the great mother's love, it becomes a human weapon that is as good as gold and stone. It is sincere and invincible. Every stitch, an engine that is smooth and submissive and sharp, a fan that is so soft and affectionate, arrogant without any weapon, but with attention that can penetrate the back of the paper, was pinched in the mother's fingers, and swore in accordance with the highest instructions, Sharpen the edge among the flourishing ideas in your head, target the weak points of keeping warm and cool in the four seasons of your children, become an ambassador of love and a strong character, follow the needs of shelter from wind and rain, brew a well-proportioned and decent route, and move forward in a round and round way. , silky and graceful, beautiful and graceful, turning out a whirling and beautiful dance, careful and melodious, the wind is drying the auspicious air, radiating from all directions, and thousands of scenes are included in it. In front of the quilt, there is a flat river, which is suitable for mother's needle to scold Fang Qiu, the dragon roars in the sky, chases the wind and steps on the moon, shakes the mane and shines the hoof, gallops vertically and horizontally, rides alone for thousands of miles. Clothes and trousers are in hand, just like a silver swallow flying towards the winding and rugged mountains. Mother's needle is still handy, changing her appearance. She is not afraid of the strange peaks and mountains. She is confident, has the right and left, moves to change the scenery, the phoenix and the oriole are flying, and she is proud Breathing out flowers creates a new world of fragrant flowers and forgotten worries. Her heart-to-heart talk was witnessed by the "Book of Songs" that was written on the side. She couldn't help but moved forward and said: "How can I get the weeds to talk about the back of the tree"... The stitches and threads stubbornly passed through the darkness of the night, Through the wind, rain, thunder and lightning, and even through the helpless sorrow, pain and sorrow, with the endless sound of burning admonitions and the radiant love, he has never looked back to create a beautiful country in the hearts of his children. Thank you for every stitch! It allows me to stay true to my original intention no matter how much hardship I endure outside. I am always choked with tears and endure life indefinitely. I receive a towering gift of encouragement and care with great emotion. No matter what difficulties and obstacles I encounter, in fact, I felt very relieved, encouraged, full of confidence, and high in morale, because my mother and I were only a dream away from the land of my hometown where we were raised.
My mother always mingled with needlework and old coarse cloth regardless of day or night. She talked endlessly about household chores about life, daily life, body temperature, fire pits, and the seasons. Those topics have been dampened by sweat, exposed to the sun, and quenched by sour chili peppers. They are so close and passionate, and their words are sincere and heartfelt, and they linger around for three days.
Mother’s sewing and dustpan is actually the arsenal for building the family and the country. For the sake of food, clothing and happiness for the family, they go through all the obstacles and fight hard; they persevere and persevere to take the lead in the pursuit of life under the roof. What walked out from there were rows of white and solid sounds of the Yihe River, and the dream of flying that young and old alike longed for.
As long as the children are prosperous and successful in their careers, it will be worth it no matter how tired they are.
It is precisely because of the sharpness and elegance of the needle, the lingering indifference of the thread, and the beauty of the combination of hardness and softness of the needle and thread that the feet are docile and smooth. , a group of wanderers who have a measured reserve and dignity, and are full of enthusiasm and strong fighting spirit to chase dreams and trends. How can this not make the children who travel around the world keep their original aspirations forever, fearless of the bite of the cold night, fight tenaciously, review the body halo under the kerosene lamp over and over again, and work hard to forge ahead. Needlework is an inspiration to venture into society, a reason to return to the countryside, the courage to explore, an incubator for achievement, a necessary teaching aid in life classes, and the key to unlocking moral integrity and success.
The figure of my mother flying needles and threads is like a tracker pulling the boat of time. Although there is no deep and majestic chant in the silent life, the roaring in her heart is still there. Jiang Tao gave me impulses and long-cherished thoughts that have stayed with me for the rest of my life. I know that what can’t be poured out every stitch is true love in the world, and what can’t be stretched is the surging heartbeat of each other under the same roof. The voice of the needle and thread is the breathing of the earth, and the throbbing of the needle and thread brews the mellowness of the melancholy of the wanderer's homeland. The hard work of needles and threads like plowshares has opened up the prosperity after poverty, propped up the facade of the family and the dignity of the children, and also firmly held back the eyes that look back and the passion of longing, making the scenes that come one after another full. The seeds of nostalgia.
Every time I make a set of clothes for my children to try on, and if they look right, the happy reward becomes the elixir of relief for my mother. The mother looked very excited, looking at the direction where her children were about to go out in the sun, her eyes were hot, but she couldn't say a word. She knew that was all she could do. She has long understood that children are the basis of a social country. Although she gave birth to them and worked hard to support them, she can only do her best to dress them up, have them experience properly, take care of their business, and make them look smooth. Only then are you qualified to hand it over. That is her understanding and responsibility of destiny as a woman. Being looked down upon by others is her unbreakable pursuit in life. She will not do it because of the disgrace of her family. The sons and daughters took their mother's face with them and went away, and a few years later they brought back their mother's face. Although the children were temporarily taken away by another hand, and there was only a solitary needle left in the mother's hand, one could look at the endless green land in the distance, and one would not feel that her old age and frail body were just a shadow of her. Single. She thought that as long as cotton was in full bloom next autumn, she would be able to spin thousands of threads as powerful as the river in front of her door, and weave mountains of old coarse cloth, and she would be able to climb onto the stilts erected by needleworkers. Bridge, she and her children will definitely meet in their dreams. The mother's dream was brought to a foreign land by her children who were traveling far away, and the mother's previous blessings came true to her children one by one. Who hasn't been targeted? Being targeted is a happy thing after all! Thinking of the matchmaking that needle and thread had given to their mothers and children, she tightened her wrinkles and gratefully gathered a handful of her white hair on her temples, but inadvertently let out the sweet laughter in her heart.
Today, my mother is leaning on the edge of the world, silently watching the slowly sinking sun in the strong autumn wind. The low sounds of sheep and cows coming from the field ridge are accompanied by the smoke from her hometown, and she is doubtful about the city. Her voice was hoarse, but she could hum the tunes of her hometown, and her children were the beautiful themes and warm melody in her heart. The harvest produced by each stitch made her more confident to fight against the growing bleakness and cold covetousness. The blade of time can only make her strong figure become thinner and thinner, but no matter what posture she uses, she can't cut away her expectations and pride. She can't let go of her children who are burning with eternal fire in the direction of their hometown. Missing, looking out...
What should be gone can never be kept. The simple poetry stitched by needlework is destined to become an unforgettable memory. She put it away carefully, since there was no more kang mat to cover, so she put the needle and thread behind the tapestry. However, she still wanted to point the needle point inward, for fear that her children would prick their fingers when they were naughty. oh! They have all forgotten that they have grown up and are no longer around. Then, completely unwrap all the wrinkles, spread joy and happiness into the sunshine in front of the door, and let your children and grandchildren, like the doves you feed, fly and soar towards the blue sky in the sunshine of love...
An unforgettable sorghum mat
Faintly, I saw the frontier of the golden autumn, so many red sorghums shining with amber-like colorful skin, rolling in like a tide, and the villagers waved their hands. The rough and skillful sign language under the sun gradually weaves the brightness of the mat in the depths of the years.
When we were children, our cousins often played and rolled around on the fire bed where my grandma had spread sorghum mats. The pleasant sorghum strips are carefully patterned and intertwined. The pattern is exquisite, smooth, and the porcelain is bright. It is beautiful and durable, and the texture is firm and comfortable. It brings people a wonderful enjoyment. It is really exciting in the northern plains. Pure folk handmade items!
Children always like to step on the thin sorghum strips and crawl back and forth to let the protruding sorghum stalk skin and joints rub the soles of their feet, which makes them feel itchy and very enjoyable.
In the evening of the dog days, when the wolves had scurried enough, I lay quietly on it, looking at the branches and leaves fluttering outside the window, listening to the flying birds chirping and singing, staring blankly at the round and round trees. Dialogue between the moon and the twinkling stars. And every time at this time, my grandma would always hold a big cattail leaf fan and keep shaking it, driving away the mosquitoes and flies that made me impatient, and telling one beautiful fairy tale after another. Slowly, I was under her careful care. Then fell into sleep. At midsummer noon when the sun is scorching and cicadas are everywhere, my kind and attentive grandma often tidies the large sorghum mats so that the naughty boys can sleep comfortably. However, urchins rarely sleep, and there are many temptations to be aggressive in the fields of Jinqiu Lake, so I just thought about jumping out and kicking. My grandma was worried, fearing that drowning would cause "famine", so she often tried to persuade me earnestly, nagging me non-stop, and then used her body to force me to lie down on the hot bed. She hugged me tightly with her arms, made me sleep peacefully on my pillow, and coaxed me to sleep. Nap. However, at that time, I was lively and naughty and couldn't restrain my excitement like a rabbit. I couldn't understand her warm intentions at all. I was only thinking about having fun with my friends and couldn't stand the restraint and restraint of being in her arms. She was quiet, but when she wanted to leave immediately, she refused to let her go, so she pretended to be obedient and "fake sleep" for a while. When her tired grandma fell asleep, she crept down from the kang and gently lifted the edge of the door curtain. I squeezed out, fled, and went "crazy" like I was liberated... When I was in fifth grade, the school allowed the children in our lake area to take a bath privately in the bay, and required that all students be allowed to come to the classroom for a lunch break, and the class cadres took turns to take attendance. So, after lunch, my grandma packed a cattail leaf fan, tied up a ream of rolled up smooth single-person sorghum bamboo mat with a cloth rope, stuffed it into my hand, and personally sent me to the school, repeatedly telling me not to break it. .
As the saying goes: "On the Kang, you have a good face." Before the 1980s in the Yellow River Delta Plain where I live, almost every household followed the custom of spreading red mats on the fire bed, and it was even more particular when marrying a wife and celebrating the New Year. The sorghum mats are also used as special gifts from relatives and friends.
The feng shui in Jinqiu Lake is good, and the ground is even better. Therefore, the sorghum trees that grow are tall and graceful. When the "iron-steel" sorghum stalks are dried and mature, the leaves often grow from the inner flesh to the outer skin. They all reveal the color of white flowers and red flowers, vaguely reflecting the hard work and hard work of the villagers in farming. The broken bamboo mats are bright and handsome, which is quite eye-catching. Sorghum bamboo mats are different from straw mats. The texture of straw mats is soft and easy to retain heat, but it should not be washed or exposed to the sun. Otherwise, the fiber structure of the mat will be destroyed and the service life will be shortened. Sorghum bamboo mats are just the opposite. Bamboo is strong, tough and can dissipate heat. Quickly, you can basically let go of washing and drying at the same time. In the scorching heat, after lunch, the experienced members of the commune would hold a boat and find a place under the shade of weeping willow flowers. They would spread out sorghum strips and cover themselves with gowns, and sleep in the sweet breeze. It couldn't be more comfortable!
The sorghum bamboo mats in my hometown have various patterns, and beautiful patterns are woven in the center and four sides. The more common central patterns include checkerboard flowers, plum blossoms, three-character flowers, wind-turning ground flowers, grain basket embellished flowers, Star flowers and so on, the edge patterns include king flower, mountain flower, orthographic flower, swastika flower, single city wall flower, water wave flower and so on. According to the color, the sorghum bamboo mats are divided into red mats and white mats; according to the types, they are divided into single mats, pillow mats, room-length mats, and baby's breath mats. If when a newlywed couple consummates their marriage, a red stripe mat is spread on the bed, it will be a prophecy, indicating that the days to come will be prosperous and prosperous. Various types of flower mats woven from sorghum strips are smooth, clean, cool and sweat-proof, making them a good choice for making beds in summer. Famous bamboo craftsmen in the Lake District are particularly skilled in their weaving skills. The flower mats they carefully weave for young people to get married can even be transformed into patterns such as lanterns, candlesticks, vases, pavilions and pavilions, as well as the words "Happiness", "Fu", "Happiness" and "Fu". Words such as "good luck" and "happy marriage" are often affixed to the walls of the bridal chamber as decorations. In addition, thin strips can also be woven into exquisite crafts such as teapot cushions, chair cushions, four screens, frames, and handbags.
The village of "Yi Liu Bian He Ya" has the custom of seeing the new daughter-in-law on the first day of the new year. In the past, most farm families chose to do "official affairs" in the twelfth lunar month to marry their children. Some even want to marry a wife during the Chinese New Year - it's just a good thing. When happiness is added to happiness, double happiness comes, and the people look for good luck. The bridal chamber has been repainted a long time ago, with a large red character "囍" posted on the wall, congratulatory couplets on the door, and red flowers on the windows. The new "virtual shed" pattern on the roof is pretty. The mats made of high-quality sorghum strips on the Kang particularly attracted everyone's attention and added a bit of joy to the new home. Because the words "Liang" and "Liang" in sorghum are homophones, and "Xi" and "xi" are homophones, "Gaoliang Xi" means "Gaoliang Xi", which means a good wife will be prosperous. On the gable wall of the wealthy residence, there is a beautiful new tapestry hanging as a decoration, just like the popular tapestry nowadays. Later, when sorghum mats became increasingly scarce and expensive, the neighbors replaced them with satin to save time.
The sorghum bamboo mat spread out one by one on the lunar fire bed just got farther and farther away from us. The past is vast and endless, like a dream. Perhaps only by looking for the path of nostalgia can we find the key to open it...