New Thinking Composition All-in-One -(Essential Edition)

Author: Chen Jiangong, Tan Tan, Bi Shumin, Gao Hongbo, Chen Shixu, etc. / Country: Mainland China
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-07-01
Features: My Father and Mother I think that there are at least two things in a person's life that one cannot choose: whether to be born and the environment in which one is born. I don't know if I would choose my parents as the couple who gave me life if I had the choice. Of course, this is a counterlogical proposition, but at the same time, it also holds a certain sense of exploration. From a certain perspective, "I" can be said to be the projection of my parents' lives. My dissatisfaction with my parents often stems from my hatred for my own flaws. But let's talk about my father and mother. My parents are an ordinary couple among the 1.2 billion people in China. They eat grains and coarse grains, live in the mortal world. Objectively speaking, from the "bright and sunny" smiles in their young photos, one can still find traces of things like "delicate," "handsome," and "lovable." However, twenty years later, my father has transformed from a handsome and mighty soldier into a middle-aged man with a "general's belly," and my mother has lost her youth and become just another housewife on the street. Things like "ideals, goals, ambitions" have gradually faded from their dictionary, and life has been grounded in the practicalities of cooking oil, salt, and rice. In other words, the pursuits of their youth have been abandoned. To be so calmly analytical of one's parents, I wonder if it counts as disrespect. However, I think most middle-aged people live like my parents. Ordinary means having many allies. At one point, I was extremely disappointed with my parents, from their lives to their marriage. I couldn't find any of the things novels call "love," "passion," "excellent," or "outstanding" in them. As for me, they never interfered much. Every day after work, Dad read the newspaper, Mom cooked, I did homework, then we had dinner. After dinner, Dad washed the dishes, and Mom started cleaning the room. After everything was in order, they would all sit together to watch TV until bedtime. I never saw them say "Happy Birthday" on each other's birthdays, nor did I see them celebrate their wedding anniversary. At that time, the only word that flashed through my mind when I thought of them was "numb." Later, one day, I heard a story on the radio. A couple had been married for fifty years. It was an arranged marriage, and they didn't have much romantic love between them. Until one day, the husband passed away, and the wife continued to cook as usual. When she habitually poured leftover food into her husband's bowl, she suddenly realized that the most important person in her life was gone. At that moment, the elderly woman in her sixties burst into tears—the fruit of "love" had grown between them over half a century. I had never been so moved. It turned out that love in reality was like this. In front of this old woman, the plots in novels suddenly seemed so pale and contrived. I began to re-examine my parents. I realized that in their clockwork-like daily lives, there was a wonderful tacit understanding between them. For example, every night, Mom would brew a cup of tea for Dad and place it in a fixed spot. And whenever they went out shopping, Dad always walked to the left of me and Mom. Such daily details could not have been done without feelings. Later, I heard that when my parents got married, it took quite a bit of effort, because of family relationships. And yet, I had actually doubted whether they had love between them! My parents haven't changed much, still living their regular, orderly lives. But my feelings toward them have undergone a subtle change. I never thought they were the best, but at least, I no longer doubted that they were happy. P1-2