When I was in school, I had read the back written by Mr. Zhu Ziqing in the text, and the author described the back of his father who saw him off in the article with touching feelings, my father’s stumbling back when he went to buy oranges not only made the author cry, but also moved our readers to tears. In fact, in everyone’s heart, there is the back of his own father, and there is also the touch brought by his father. I am one of them.

I remember that summer, when I just finished the senior high school entrance examination, my classmates sorted out their daily necessities one after another, and then left the school which had been in service for three years with the help of my parents. Looking at their gradually moving back and the continuous rain outside, my eyes were full of tears. In the empty school, only me and a bunch of things couldn’t be transported home were left. A few days later, my father returned to his hometown from other places because of his ill health. Looking at his gaunt face and thin body, I didn’t have the heart to ask him to go to school to help me carry things back, but when he asked if my quilt and books were still left in school, I nodded gently. In this way, I took him on the way to school. Because the road leading to the school needs to be built into a provincial road, a large amount of soil is added to the original road to widen and raise. It was just a few days of heavy rain that washed the newly filled soil into a pit. It was uneven and the silt was deeply deposited. It took a lot of effort to pull out every foot. When he arrived at the dormitory, his father carried the packed things on his shoulder. It was heavy. He was originally thin, but now he seemed to be a little short. I followed him with my schoolbag and umbrella on my back. Therefore, we walked in the deep silt one by one. After walking for a while, my father and I were both exhausted and breathless. I just feel that the schoolbag on my body is as heavy as a thousand pounds, as if it is going to press me into the soil. I complained: I can’t walk anymore. When can I get home after walking like this. My father turned around and said to me: you are exhausted. Come on, take my umbrella. After saying that, he took off my schoolbag and put it on his shoulder. Then he shrugged his shoulders and continued to walk forward with difficulty. At this time, I was very sad to see my father’s sick body walking in the drizzle and his heavy luggage seemed to crush him. My tears flowed down disobedient. But I didn’t cry, afraid that he would hear me. I just followed behind him silently, looking at his back, shaking in the rain, shaking in my hazy tears. Along the way these years, my father and I always got together less and more, and the relationship gradually became estranged. We always felt that there was something between father and son, and we couldn’t tell clearly. I just felt that he came and went in my life, shaking the vague back, but seldom came to me sincerely and handed me the real warmth. Therefore, when I was young, I always complained about him in my heart, blaming him for taking away the warmth of my father’s love and for the separation of father and son created by him. Now think about it, I was really stupid at that time. This kind of pain is deeper and deeper than me. Like (prose editor: Di Mo Chengshang) the 30th year of my WeChat era

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