Recommendation of essays commemorating the 40th anniversary of reform and opening up.

Recommendation of essays commemorating the 40th anniversary of reform and opening up.

Tisch

Who doesn't praise my hometown! My hometown is in the west of Guanzhong, on the land of Joo Won? in the north of Fufeng Famen Temple, a Buddhist holy place. There is an unknown East han cun, where I was born and raised. Seen from a distance, the Wei River, with its north-south direction and towering head and clear flowing feet, is like a beautiful and kind fairy daughter, bathed in warm sunshine and silently guarding this fertile land all her life.

Spring returns to the earth and the countryside is picturesque. I stood at the entrance of the village and looked at the vast sky from a distance. Light blue white clouds are floating in the wind, just like being washed by rain, crystal clear, reflecting the mountains more verdant. Approaching the field, the wheat seedling is dressed in a green coat, stretching quietly and rippling with green waves. Look at the orchard, apples, pears, peaches, apricots and other colorful trees, intertwined with fragrant rape flowers, causing bees to fly, butterflies to fly, and magpies to climb branches. In this quiet land, I can't help taking a deep breath. I can smell the fragrance of flowers and trees and the smell of earth. That refreshing nasal sound washed my soul, just like a fairy gave me a cup of fairy tea, which made me walk into a dreamy and mythical paradise in the intoxicating fragrance.

Homesickness is beautiful, as thick as wine. Nostalgia is deep and memory is true. To tell the truth, when I was a teenager, my hometown was not perfect! In recent years, every time I go back to the countryside, I have to look around the fields and the courtyards of villages and miss the past. After listening and watching again and again, I have been moved by poetry. With bitter memories, it reminds me of the village yesterday, today and tomorrow. ...

I was born in the early 1960s and experienced three years of natural disasters and man-made disasters during the Cultural Revolution. At that time, the collectivization organization mode of large-scale people's communes was implemented in rural areas of Na Yue and China. Taking farming as an example, around the entrance of the village, members generally divide certain "grain fields" or "private plots" as "life-saving fields" for farmers to maintain rations. In this way, first, the map work is simple, second, it is easy to manage and protect, and third, there are many people in the collectivization field, which is convenient for work. But that year, contrary to expectations, there was no harvest in these fields. According to the farming season, it has just been planted, my god! Before wheat heading, corn knotting and melon germination, a "hemp fan" appeared, deliberately letting go of her domestic chicken and shouting out of the yard; The "unreasonable" golden dog uncle just doesn't tie his old sow, and the big pig runs out of the village with her cubs. The rich man, who was afraid of dying for money and didn't doze off, raised several milk goats and grazed freely. Since then, chickens, pigs and sheep have come out to feed. A large group of chickens come, you dig it and grab it, and soon you destroy the field; The remaining few seeds finally grew tender Xin Wei, and the beautiful escaped sheep and pigs ran out of the pen, gnawing and smashing, almost turning the field upside down, like a "cauldron" filled with a delicious meal; In addition, it is convenient for pedestrians to walk, and several paths have been trampled, leaving footprints of different shades in the ground. Although the footsteps are ruthless, they are scarred. These things hurt the farmers' own interests, so they went to him and I went to you, blaming each other and arguing about the level. In rambling, both sides can't help punching each other, and beating and cursing can happen several times a day, which is more lively than singing a big drama in the village.

At that time, the production captain often lamented: it is difficult for honest officials to break housework! If it harms the interests of the collective and everyone turns a blind eye, who will feel distressed? That's official oil and strong twist, let it go! In any case, we would rather have the grass of socialism than the seedlings of capitalism. With this mentality, people can only argue in despair. Over time, this has become a "chicken and dog farm" that can't be cleaned up, and there is no cure! ..... These old things have left a page of poverty, backwardness and ignorance in my young mind.

"Winter has come, can spring be far behind?" Yes, the vast rural areas in China bid farewell to yesterday in the spring breeze of reform and opening up, and my hometown is no exception. With the implementation of the contract responsibility system, pigs, chickens and dogs can no longer be seen in the "chicken and dog fields" around the village. The villagers dug deep into the land, and all the beams on the edge of the field were right, not to mention plowing the land with their neighbors and planting boundary markers. Some plant jujube thorns on the edge of the ground and set up protective fences. The villagers consciously developed a good atmosphere of calling chickens to look after pigs and managing sheep. It is gratifying that nowadays, the concept of villagers is changing. From time to time, while vigorously building a modern agricultural industrial park, they actively introduce and plant all kinds of world-class fruit trees, build high-grade' boutique orchards', and interplant beans, vegetables and flowers in the gardens. Because the fruits and vegetables produced are pollution-free, do not use pesticides, and reach the standard of green food, you can get rich by keeping your home, and the economic income of an acre of land is 10 thousand yuan. There are flowers in the fields in three seasons, and they are evergreen all the year round. full of green is like a charming "Hundred Flowers Garden!" "Attract city leaders not to visit and travel.

As a child of a farmer, I am in the countryside, and my heart is stirring. "Why do I always have tears in my eyes, because I love this land deeply" ... The beautiful scenery has turned over my hometown, and the ancient land of Joo Won? has gone through 40 years of vicissitudes, adding new scenery to the new era. How harmonious, prosperous and happy it is! Looking forward to the future, the villagers are down-to-earth and striding forward with joy on the road of getting rich and running towards a well-off society!

extreme

Forty years ago, although my father worked in a county construction company, he ate the "commodity grain" envied by the villagers. But he never left the land for a day. In the evening after work, or holidays, holidays, he picked up a hoe to help his mother take care of the "responsibility field."

As far as I can remember, he rode that "February 28th" bicycle to work in the city early every morning and didn't come back until the evening, which was what I expected most. My father smiled and walked through the warm sunset, pedaled to my door and took off the canvas bag on the frame as soon as he stopped. Sometimes candy, sometimes delicious food on the table. This scene became the warmest memory of my childhood.

At that time, my family and another family in the village shared an old house with a patio, with two rows of wing rooms, four rooms across the hall, two rooms in my family and a * * * hall. One room for my parents and one room for my brother and sister. The room looks narrow and dark because of the clutter. The columns and beams are gray-black, and the walls are white-gray, revealing mottled primary color adobe. You can climb to the attic along the wooden ladder in the old house. When I was a child, playing hide-and-seek with my friends was a treasure house for me. According to my mother, my old house was given to my grandparents during the land reform, but my parents died when my father was a teenager and left it to my father. Those days were barren and warm. Although the house was so small, it was full of laughter from my brother and me. Later, with the birth of my sister, my father sprouted the idea of building a new house, but my father's salary was not high and my mother earned just enough food and clothing for a family of five. Building a new house can only be a dream hidden in my father's heart.

And this dream, because of a change, seems even more out of reach. When I was in the third grade of primary school, my father accidentally fell off the scaffold on the construction site and broke his arm. My home is like half the sky falling down. My strong mother is calm on the surface, taking care of her father in hospital while busy with farm work, but I saw her hiding in the door and secretly wiping her tears several times.

After his father recovered from his injury, his arm could not be completely straightened and he could not do heavy work, so the company made him a doorman, but his salary was much less. At that time, the east wind of reform and opening up had blown to our small mountain village and divided the fields into households. So every time the farm is busy, my mother has to hire someone to plow the land. Seeing too many villagers' faces, I bought a cow from Dont Ask For Help's father. He has never touched a plow. Holding a heavy and unruly plow with his disabled right hand, he appeared in the surprised eyes of the villagers. The plow is curved from beginning to end, as straight as a straight line. In a few years, my father's farming skills made the villagers pay tribute.

In order to realize the grand plan of building a new house as soon as possible, mom and dad worked harder to prepare and were busy day and night. In addition to planting three acres of paddy fields and three acres of dry land, my mother also reclaimed a small piece of wasteland on the beach at the foot of the mountain and planted peanuts, cotton and soybeans. My father runs to the field as soon as he gets off work every day. In the eyes of the villagers, this person who eats "public meals" is no different from a cultivator who gets up in the dark. My sister-in-law and I also began to help the family share housework. Every morning, I get up early to cook. As long as I was late after school or on a rest day, I would pick well water (at that time, every kitchen had a big water tank), or I would chop wood and fight pig grass with my friends. My younger brother is responsible for herding cattle, once in the morning and once in the evening, so that the cows can eat their stomachs. When the farm is busy, we help adults weed, pick cotton, pull peanuts and pick peanuts. Even my little sister follows the adults and learns to do farm work with dignity. During the "double robbing" period, we were indispensable for cutting rice, picking rice, threshing, pulling out seedlings and growing grain. When I was in high school, I was not even inferior to adults in cutting rice and growing food, so I could be regarded as a strong worker at home.

Life in my family has gradually improved. As the children grow up year by year, my father decided to start his dream-to build a building in the open space behind the old house. Build the ground floor first, and then rebuild the second floor if conditions permit. In order to save the cost of buying stones, my sister-in-law and I went to the village to pick up stones every day that summer vacation, and then stumbled home. In addition to pouring concrete beams and columns, my father also asked for help. In other words, he used his work break to build a nest with his mother like a swallow, and finally built the first floor of his new home.

My father's plan to build a second floor was delayed because he was heavily in debt to build a house and later had to raise college tuition for me. To his relief, after graduating from high school and junior high school, his younger brothers and sisters all went to Guangdong to work and began to send money home from the south. In the third year after I worked, the second floor of my new house was finally built, and my father's dream of a new house was finally realized. In the following years, my father decorated the house one after another, plastered marble on the ground, painted the walls, added all kinds of furniture and appliances, and even pasted tiles on the outer wall. My father stood at the head of the village and looked at his masterpiece. The smile on his face stretched like never before.

Five years ago, my father retired, and under the repeated urging of our brother and sister, my parents gave the paddy field to others to plant, but they still planted more than three acres of dry land, prevaricating our urging on the grounds that "planting dry land saves trouble" and "being idle and doing exercise". We thought our parents could spend their old age safely, but our overworked mother suffered from malignant diseases, cervical spondylosis and lumbar disc herniation. Last year, I made an appointment with my sister-in-law to go home for the New Year. I started from the Yangtze River thousands of miles away, and my sister started from the south. At work, she met and fell in love with a young man from Guangdong and formed a happy family. My brother also went home last year and opened a car decoration shop in the city, ending the days of working outside. My mother watched her children, daughter-in-law and grandchildren sitting around the table, smiling brightly, but said sadly with tears, "You are all older, so you don't have to worry about food and clothing at home." Without these diseases, life will be very difficult. " I advised her: "Now that medicine is so developed, there is nothing to see." Father interjected: "Look at you, after acupuncture and massage, you also said that your neck and waist hurt less."

Forty years of reform and opening up in a country, my family is a microcosm of the changes in these forty years. My father kept running and moving forward on the road to realize his dream of housing, including the pain and struggle of chasing dreams and the happiness and sweetness of dreams coming true. In these forty years, father and mother have been taking care of each other, watering their days with sweat and raising their children with painstaking efforts. They are just one of thousands of ordinary parents in Qian Qian, Qian Qian, but they pull my family from poverty to prosperity like hardworking cows. In Qian Qian, they are thousands of Qian Qian, pulling a country from poverty to prosperity.