Tomb sweeping during the Ching Ming Festival

The Tomb of the Ching Ming Festival April 4, 2019 is the Ching Ming Festival. At 8 o'clock this morning, my father and mother took the bus back to their hometown to sweep the grave to their grandparents, grandmothers and grandmothers. On the Ching Ming Festival, it was drizzle, like thousands of silver wires, falling from the sky, as light as a spider's silk, as thin as a needle tip, as long as a cotton thread.

After breakfast, I went to the grave with my parents. Along the way, my mother told me that Ching Ming Festival is a festival for future generations to pay homage to the ancestors, and sweeping the tomb is a form of worshipping the ancestors, cleaning up their graves and removing weeds, representing our ancestors. Missing.

We took the path, and after the rain on the country road, it was muddy but beautiful. The raindrops are very cool on our cheeks, and it seems to be singing a song. We walk and enjoy the scenery: the small roads are full of colorful flowers everywhere, they are arrogant, and one looks better than one. Soon it will be. We gave the lord a grave, it was a bit high, I spent a lot of time to climb up, where is the grave, and it was just raining, so it was very slippery, I almost fell, but fortunately my sister took me Hold it. We burned some paper to the lord first, then put a bunch of firecrackers, and the table lost evil. The adults took out the supplies and placed them in front of the grave, lit the incense sticks, and burned a lot of paper money. These supplies were given to the ancestors, and the paper money was used by the ancestors to express the filial piety of our younger generation. In the end, everyone must take turns to worship from the big to the small, and some of them still have words in their mouths. Hey, the cousin reads: "The ancestors bless, let me take five points in the college entrance examination!" How ridiculous. There is more interesting thing. The left column of the ancestors’ tombstones has a line that has not been described. I don’t think about it when I pick up the pen. I panic and my father screams: “Don't move!”, the original line is left. I couldn’t write it until my grandmother passed away. I almost smashed the disaster and quickly slammed four heads in front of the ancestors’ graves. The adults laughed happily... After sweeping the tomb, we were all tired, and we went down the mountain. A glimpse, but this day is really meaningful, and Ching Ming Festival made me add a little respect to our ancestors.

First day: Stars follow the line