My mother is a typical country woman. Once, the country women hardly stopped to take a rest. Besides raising the children, they had to till the land and sow. To increase income, they needed to feed pigs and grow vegetables as a sideline. To reduce expenditure, they also had to sew clothes for children in person at night.
As far as I can remember, my mother has always been very busy. Some of those pictures have left a deep impression on me.
One of the scenes was that she asked me and my younger brother to sit quietly in front of the pigsty while she was cleaning up the dung of pigs with my youngest brother on her back. My mother was short. Sitting outside of the pigsty and looking inside, we could see only her head standing a little higher than the pigsty. Therefore, her and my youngest brother’s heads were rising and falling, as if struggling in the huge waves.
Another scene was that when the busy farming season came, my father and uncle often ate something before noon to stop hunger while they were working in the fields. The refreshment was salty porridge as usual, which was cooked with last night’s leftovers and unpolished rice. Carrying the salty porridge and walking on the only one-foot-wide ridge, my mother took great pains to make for the fields. The bulk of the two buckets which she was carrying were much larger than her size. It seemed as if she were carried by the two buckets rather than she was carrying them. Then a high-pitched voice was heard, “Hey, come on! Come and have salty porridge!” Her voice carried quite a few miles away.
The other scene was that she would go to the temple, burn joss sticks and worshipped God as long as her children got sick. Every time I see her kneeling before Bodhisattva for a long time with tightly-closed eyes and muttering prayers in her mouth, I find her face so beautiful that nothing in the world can compare to it. Her face is as beautiful as Bodhisattva’s on the holy table. No, she is more beautiful than Bodhisattva because my mother has real flesh and blood. Everyone’s mother is Bodhisattva and mother’s heart is like the heart of Buddha.
Because I’ve kept those memories about my mother firmly in my mind, no matter what adversity I come across, I can always exact myself and go forward, with thankfulness. In addition, that’s why I’ve never said a word against my mother since a very young age.
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