No mother does not love their own children, but the way of love is different. When I was a “light ass” little doll, the mother used her pair of warm hands to pull me a little bit, taught me to walk, taught me to use chopsticks. Growing on the road, I fell again and again, again and again failed, the mother’s love has been around with me, let me grow up slowly.
I remember my childhood, my father bought a birthday gift to her mother, it is a very delicate necklace – thin red rope tied with two letters, my mother and I are the name. Mother likes this gift, but I am more love, all day wearing a neck. Uncle went home, I wore a beloved necklace to see him, he kept boast of my necklace beautiful, boast my long beautiful. I am happy to be a bit flirtatious. I took off the necklace carefully watching, accidentally clasped the necklace, and I forced a pull,the necklace is broken, I was afraid, and quickly find a hidden place to hide the debris,
Mother came home and asked me where the necklace went. I said angrily: “lost”. Mom said to me: “Some things can be lost to buy, but some things lost but can not find it back!”, The original mother had long found the debris in the corner. My face brush to become a red cloth. Mother said, “the man is most honest and honest, a dishonest person is not welcome.” Since then, my mother never pursued this matter.
Blink of an eye ten years later, hidden in the corner of the necklace has been covered with dust, lost the original glory. But my mother’s words are often lingering in my heart, like a feather duster, brush off my dust, remind me to be an honest child.