I heard you say

Mom, I will listen carefully if you say something; I will keep it in my heart.

--Inscription

Years, flowing through the dark hair; the wind, spreading the message of love; time, whitening the black hair a little bit, swallowed the face of the once-in-the-city, but left me a deep love of the bone marrow.

You said, I am very naughty in the hour, follow you to fight, do not hurt or cry, do not admit that I am still pouting, can ruin you.

You said, I don't know what to clean, what to do with dirty, but also move if you shouldn't move, and don't listen. You said, I am a "two-faced face", love wrestling, not a steady force, not like a little girl.

But I have to say: It doesn't matter, Mom, as long as you say it, I will change it and become a good child like you hope.

Mom, if you said something, I will remember it.

Mom, you love me. Look at your hand, the pair of original white, smooth hands through the years of "baptism" became rough and dark, cracked a long mouth, grinding a thick old man. I felt the old hands of the hands, and I knew the hard work of the master of the hand. But it was the tears that I tried to fall when I tried to drop the dust on my trousers, which created a simple and warm home for me and became the warmest and most reliable harbor in my heart.

Mom, what you have done, I will keep it in my heart.

Mom, I thought, it would be a shame for me to have a daughter like me! I won't say good things to make you happy, I won't do anything to make you happy, I won't do some housework to help you share, and I will get some trouble from time to time to make you angry, and return to the "righteousness" If you are "big and bad", you will always be tolerant of me, never care about me, which makes me feel a little self-confident.

Mom, what you said, what you have done, in my opinion is the most beautiful poetry in the world, the most perfect navigation in my life.

Mom, you pull it out, and you can't pull out the white stained with snow. You wipe it and wipe the growing lines on your face. You work so hard, I know that you want to calm down the mud on the way forward, but I also know that you are no longer able to work hard for me.

Mom, you said so much to me, done so much, so much, so much...

Now, it’s my turn to say it for you, for you.

Third day: shallow month