Clourful days
When I was a child, every summer I liked going outside with a bamboo pole with a plastic bag at the top. I used it to look for and catch butterflies and cicadas, which flied in the trees and grasses where situated behind my home. Along the slim river I could go very far, very long. Despite my mother was always yelling at me for my returning home so late, I still wouldn’t go home until catching as many butterflies and cicadas as I had expected.
Till today, I still could remember how deeply I was lost in the pure pursuing fun, when crossing, running and creeping under the think shadows of trees. Through the seams of the nameless leaves the sun shed its golden shines on my face. I felt hot, sweaty, yet full of childlike and innocent joyousness.
At night, due to the exhausting playing in the daytime, I always dug into dreams at soon as I got myself on the bed.How many countless and sweet dreams I have made at that time! In the dreams I found myself bare-footed and be running on the green slopes, sometimes I could remember what I had made in the dream, but in most times I couldn’t. The only thing I could remember was just I was so happy in the long, sweet, and happy dreams.
At that time I, with my whole family lived in the countryside. Behind my home there was a river. The river, and the thick and broad jungles beside, were my childhood paradise. There, the place I spent my whole childhood, was thought of my most precious time till now, if not in all my life. That time, every evening my mother stood in the front of the yard and called my name. Her voice could be the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.
Once, when I have grown up, I asked my mother. “ Mum, could you still remember calling my name in every evening when I was a child?” My mother smiled, graspedmy hand into hers, and said: “ How could I not remember? You were the naughtiest kid comparing with your brother and sister. Every evening, near the sundown, I was always worried, worried that you would be lost your way….”
Oh, Mum. Then could you still remember that how happy I was at that time? Could you still remember the naughty little girl came to you so curiously, so curiously want you to praise her? In her eyes, there were full of expecting, curiousness and innocence.
Oh, mum. Could you still remember all of this? Now your kids are all grown up, could you still remember how they looked like when there were all young? They sat around you and listened to the song you sang to them. In the hot mid-summer night, could you still remember you hugged them and held them in your arm to the bed after their sleeping on the chair.
If you remember, then could you know sometimes your kid were waked up in your arm, knowing that you wouldn’t hold them in the arms if she had been awake, she closed her eyes and pretended to be sleeping. You put them on the bed lightly, covered the carpet on them, put down the mosquito net and then crept outside… Oh, mum, could you still remember all of this?
Now you kids are all grown up, whereas you are getting older and older. The grey hairs, the wrinkles, when have they appeared on your head and your forehead? When have you not been strong and failed to hold your kids any more? Oh, Mum, why does the time pass by so quickly? When, when then you have become in the fifties?
On the phone you asked if I would go back to home in this summer. How could I not return? Mum, at that time your will be having your fiftieth birthday, how could I not go back home? Your naughty kid, your naughty kid now has been growing up, whereas, why are you not young any savvy any more?
Oh, Mum, till then, when I lean close to you once again after so many, so many years, could you, could you tell me why the time flies so quickly, so quickly? and why, why you are not young any more?......
