The memory of a young age should be the deepest texture of the brain. Once engraved, it is difficult to forget. The small roads in my hometown are one of my childhood memories.
It was a rough dirt road, and the oldest grandfather didn’t know when it was formed. It is tied to a village at one end, the east end is my grandma’s Haojiazhuang, and the west end is my home, called Songjiazhuang. I have many younger siblings, and it was difficult for my parents to support me, so they sent me to live with my grandma. Grandpa works out of town and rarely has time to visit the house. Therefore, it is not easy for grandma to take care of my uncle and me. I go to school in the village primary school, and I commute to and from this six-mile-long rough path every day, with my classmates as companions, but it’s okay. What I worry about is the big ditch more than 200 meters wide in the middle of Hengduan Road. Later, when I grew up, I realized that this was Dong Fanyanghe. The river bed is about 20 meters deep, and there are more than 20 meters of bank slopes to climb up and down. In the rainy season, when the flood in Nanshan crosses the river, it is knee-deep when it is deep, and ankle-deep when it is shallow, so you have to take off your shoes and walk barefoot. The rough stones on the river bed made the feet hurt. It snows in winter and the slopes are steep and slippery. What makes me unforgettable is that it was snowing that morning, I got up late, and hurried to school without breakfast. When I crossed the river slope and looked back, I saw my grandma was still looking at me from the other side. After the first class, I walked out of the classroom, and suddenly saw my grandma calling me in the corner outside. The grandma covered in snowflakes took out a hot pancake wrapped in white cloth from her coat, called me by my nickname, and said: ” Eat while it’s hot, and don’t miss class.” Whenever I eat pancakes when I grow up, I think of my grandma’s hot pancake with fried eggs, the snow-covered path, the big slope with slippery feet, and the trembling legs. Little feet, can’t help but shed tears.
When I was in high school, I was already a strong guy who could carry a cart. The children of the poor were already in charge of the family, and I became a full-time laborer in the production team during the holidays. That year, the team needed to go to Haojiazhuang in the east of the river to borrow wheat straw for roof replacement. The big river ditches blocked it, so we could only carry it on our shoulders. But going up to the river bank made us exhausted, let go of our burdens, and gasped for breath. I repeatedly said: “The road to Shu is difficult…” The two partners said: “If there is a bridge, it will not be difficult.” Then they said, “This is the road. Daydreaming.” After finishing speaking, he sighed again and again.
I really didn’t expect that the dream of the past has become a reality in the past few years! The villagers’ minds are broader and their vision is wider. Sleeping poor mountains and barren land require money! Under the leadership and support of village and town leaders, stone factories and cement factories were built, the road to wealth was repaired, companies were established, businesses were established, long-distance transportation was started, and big hotels were opened… Money bags are getting fuller every year, and the days are full. Get richer every day. No, entrepreneur Jia Muhai spent more than 90 million yuan to dredge the Fanyang River in more than two years, built ten dams on the riverbed, and built a bridge across the river, completing the millennium “bridge” of the two villages. “Dream, people in both villages affectionately call it “Lianxin Bridge”, which is a great achievement for the present and a long blessing for future generations.
As a wanderer who has been working outside for half my life, when I heard this good news, the memories of the past came to my mind, and I couldn’t wait to say to my wife: “I will go back to my hometown tomorrow, and watch the road and the bridge!
” Years later, when I revisited my hometown, those bumpy paths were no longer seen, but turned into flat asphalt roads, leading to every house and connecting the fields. The little road I’ve been dreaming about has become an asphalt road with a white line in the middle and clear comings and goings. The desolate bank gullies where people struggled for livelihood in their youth have also become a clear stream from north to south. Both sides are lush and green artificial vegetation. What shocks me the most is this bridge that stretches from east to west, the smooth road surface, the purple bridge railings, and the antique gazebo built in the middle of the bridge. A close dream…
”When I feel the time, the flowers splash tears”, the little grandson next to me whispered in my ear: “Grandpa, are you crying?” I replied softly, “Grandpa didn’t cry, but he was happy.” “Crying too happy? “Yes, happy tears are more precious than sad tears.
