单位附近有一所规模不小的学校。每到放学的时候,便有成群结队的小学生,涌到小卖部,购买一种装有“水浒英雄”画片的“干脆面”。有的同学买到这种“干脆面”后,把“画片”取出来,随手把面饼扔到地上。白花花的“干脆面”抛撒一地,任凭千踩万踏,令人心痛不已。每当看到这痛心的一幕,我的心里便会涌上一种感慨万千的思绪,不由自主地想起自己那苦涩的童年,想起父亲手里攥着的那黑乎乎的糠窝头。 60年代,我出生在太行山深处一个依山傍水的小山村里。在我记忆里,家里是很穷很穷的,早晨起来,用以裹腹的是那种一斗玉米、二斗谷糠磨成的糠面,母亲把它攥成圆圆的,用 There is a small school near the unit. Every school, there are groups of primary school students, flocked to the Commissary, to buy a “Water Margin Heroes” picture of “crisp noodles.” Some students bought this “simply noodles”, the “picture” taken out, readily throwing the dough on the ground. Scattered “crisp noodles” throwing a place, despite the million step tread, it is heartbreaking. Whenever I see this sad scene, my heart will be filled with a feeling of thoughts, involuntarily remembered my bitter childhood, think of his father clutching the hands of the black pesto head. In the 60s, I was born in a small mountain village in the depths of Taihang Mountain. In my memory, the family was very poor and poor. In the morning, the one used to wrap the belly was the nougat that was milled into two rounds of bran, and the mother clutched it round with