Fragrance of love

The love of the world is passed on by the fragrance, because it is a delicate flower in itself.

--Inscription

In the distant sky, the blue sky is like a huge gem, and the clouds are like the vines embedded in the gems. The sun shines through the clouds, and each light hides something called miss. Tears unknowingly fell on the cheeks, and the smile of Grandma emerged.

There was a fragrant scent in the wind, and I came to the kitchen with the scent. "Little cat, smell the smell again!" Grandma said with a smile, really a childish grandmother. Grandma said that she picked up a sweet-scented osmanthus cake and stuffed it into my mouth. I gorged and ate, but I didn't know how to smile behind my face.

Sometimes it is also a silent love. The osmanthus tree in front of the door was planted when Dad was a child. It grew up with Dad and scented his father's childhood. Slowly and slowly, Dad grew up. But as always, tall, fragrant, swaying in the wind. When the flowers bloom every year, my brother and I are always around it, and we play together. Under the tree, we can always hear our laughter; under the tree, we can always forget the troubles; under the tree, we can always feel the warmth behind us. It has been quietly accompanied by us and never abandoned. We especially love the sweet-scented osmanthus cake made by Grandma, and Grandma always takes us to shake the sweet-scented osmanthus when it blooms. When the cockroach is full, it is time for Grandma to show his talents.

Years cover up our childhood and are replaced by growth. We can't see our figure again in the flowering season. For grandma, more is deserted. When I returned again, I saw the fallen leaves and the dull eyes of my grandmother. Grandma was too sick to get out of bed. She came to the grandmother's bed and she held my hand tightly. I realized that I would lose her and my heart was empty. Her hand hangs down slowly, I hurriedly grabbed her falling hand and forgot to cry, but it still hangs down a little bit in front of my eyes, she has already left.

Looking at the sweet-scented osmanthus lying quietly in the palm of my hand, I suddenly realized that it was the grandmother's love.

First day: Li Hao