Springtime in Childhood

 　　I spent my precious childhood in my hometown, where spring left a deep impression on me.

　　The spring breeze had just awakened the slumbering earth, and tender buds eagerly poked their heads out from the branches of the trees, curiously peeking at this vibrant world; a touch of tender green peeked through the withered yellow grass, like little monkeys, jumping and hopping with all their might, swaying playfully in the breeze. Happy swallows flew back from the south, singing the story of spring; swarms of bees frolicked merrily among the flowers; and colorful butterflies danced gracefully in the fields, every gesture radiating beauty.

　　At this time, the Lotus Pond River gradually came alive. The clear water rippled gently, and schools of fish and shrimp swam with the spring waters from the Lotus Pond River to ditches and ponds, rushing into the farmland. They swam carefree in the water, stretching their heads out and smiling in the sunlight and breeze. Every time I saw them, I felt like a joyful little egret, trying to catch them—it was an indescribable psychological game.

　　When the mood struck, my third sister would say, "Jiuman, let's go fishing!" Without a word, she would grab a winnowing basket and head out the door, with me following behind carrying a small bucket. My third sister would step into the water and, with lightning speed, aim the basket at the school of fish, catching eight or ten small fish each time, and plenty of crucian carp an inch or two long. She would hurriedly grab the fish and shrimp from the basket and throw them into the bucket. In an hour or two, she would often catch more than half a bucket of small fish and shrimp, and then another meat dish would appear on our family's table.

　　On a sunny, breezy day, as soon as school was over, my mother would send me to gather pig feed to prepare food for our precious livestock. I would put down my schoolbag, pick up my bamboo basket and small shovel, and head towards the fields full of hope. At this time, the wild rapeseed was growing lush and green, its large, unfurled leaves looking rather simple and honest; the purslane's stems and leaves were plump and tender, its emerald green form swaying gently in the breeze; the daylilies grew close to the ground, their short plants growing in patches, so fresh and juicy they seemed ready to be squeezed for water. These wild grasses were the pigs' favorite "mountain delicacies." When I saw one I liked, I would squat down, grasp the grass with my left hand, and use my small shovel in my right hand to dig down from the root. With a deft pry, a whole wild grass would spring out of the soil. In no time, I would have a basket full of heavy wild grass.

　　Back home, my mother looked at the full bamboo basket, her eyes crinkling into crescents, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. She couldn't help but praise me, saying, "You've shoveled so much pig feed; our pigs are in luck today!" Hearing her praise, I felt like a little man, able to help the adults with some chores. Afterwards, my mother chopped the washed pig feed, cooked it, poured it into the pig feed bucket, added boiling swill and rice bran, stirred it, and then carried it to the pigsty to tend to our precious pigs. In

　　the warm spring of March, after lunch, my childhood friends and I, in groups of three or five, would run towards the lotus pond at the end of the village. The pond was lush and green, the lotus leaves spreading out, covering the water at varying heights. Ducks frolicked in the water, splashing up joyful droplets. Wild birds would occasionally fly and hop around, looking here and there, calling to their companions, creating a delightful scene. Without hesitation, we took off our clothes and stepped into the water. The cool touch instantly spread throughout our bodies. Following the lotus stems, we gently nudged them with our feet, and whole lotus roots floated to the surface. At that moment, all the chill vanished, leaving only the joy and happiness of the harvest.

　　A breeze blew, and ripples spread across the pond, shimmering in the setting sun. Clumps of dark tadpoles on the bank were a delight to us. Occasionally, we would scoop up a handful and admire their long tails wriggling in our palms, their mouths agape as they slurped water. Some of us loved catching grasshoppers, crept up stealthily, and then pounced, trying to catch those agile creatures. Others broke off slender branches from willow trees, carefully woven them into hats, and put them on their heads, imitating scouts from the movies, hiding in the bushes and shouting. When we were tired, we lay down on the soft grass, feeling the gentle caress of the breeze. Seeing the birds flying in the sky filled me with immense joy, as if I myself had become a free bird, soaring freely in the vast天地 (heaven and earth).

　　In the evening, my mother's familiar call drifted through layers of lotus leaves. We walked home in the afterglow of the setting sun, wisps of smoke rising from distant chimneys, carrying the fragrance of flowers and grass, mixed with the rich aroma of chili peppers, making me think of the delicious food on the stove, and my steps quickened.

　　Farmers walked into the fields, their trousers stained with the green of purple clover, their sleeves with the yellow of rapeseed flowers, and fine beads of sweat on their foreheads. Everywhere—in their eyes, mouths, and noses—was filled with a sweet and fragrant aroma. All the stale air was gone, and their bodies felt light. They said, "It's time to sow the cotton seeds, time to scatter the jute seeds..." Spring sowing and autumn harvest—this was the work they had strived for their entire lives.

　　Springtime in my childhood was the schools of fish swimming upstream in the ditches, the majestic trees and flowers in the fields, and the joyful faces of pedestrians on the paths… They were like the tender white lotus roots in the pond at the end of the village, deeply rooted in my heart. When I work diligently and receive praise from my superiors, when I finish my work with ease… they sprout plump buds and bloom into colorful flowers, keeping my life forever vibrant like springtime!