在那山环水绕的小山村里,有我的母亲。她与她生长在那个时代的大多数母亲一样,不认识字。然而她总是做出连认字的母亲们也未必能做到的事情。 我们四个儿女都没见过爷爷、奶奶,听父亲讲,爷爷是早年的八路军,被人告密遇害,奶奶一气之下,撇下父亲一个独子早早地去了。至今,每到年节,父亲总把爷爷奶奶的像挂在堂屋,讲一些爷爷为革命工作的事,教育我们好好工作,好好作人。记得前几年每到八一节,乡里、大队就送一些慰问品,这每每勾起父亲伤心的回忆,就被父亲一次次给拒绝了。 There is my mother in the mountain village surrounded by the mountain water. Like most mothers she grew up in that era, she did not know the word. However, she always makes things that mothers who do not even know how to do it. Our four children have not seen grandpa, grandmother, listen to my father, my grandfather is the early years of the Eighth Route Army, was reported to be murdered, my grandmother angrily, leaving his father went to an early child. So far, every year, my father always hangs his grandparents’ image in the main hall and talks about some of Grandpa’s work for the revolutionary work. He educates us to do a good job and to be a good man. I remember a few years ago every eight to one day, the township, the brigade sent some condolences, which often arouse his father’s sad memories, his father was again rejected.