Bloom on the Other Shore

29. A Rope of Love

Paintingthe skyline, you are the ink incense.

Writing all the mountains, you are the pen.

Passing each other, you are the spring breeze.

Setting sun, you the rosy clouds.

1.

In the winter of 2012, there was blizzard outside the window.

Grandma stiffened and turned to look at me as if I were a stranger.。

Of course, I was a stranger to her who had lost her memory from a stroke.

2.

When Grandpa was alive, he often said: "We are all ordinary people who speak normal words, but because of your grandmother, my words is not normal."

Grandpa's name is Richard, born in a family with both parents' scholars who were high generals in army.

At that time, I was in middle school and fell in love with a girl. I dared not tell my parents, so I talked to my grandpa.

Grandpa took out a big dictionary, accompanied me to write love letters all night, there was such an article I remember clearly:

"Painting the skyline, you are the ink incense.

Writing all the mountains, you are the pen.

Passing each other, you are the spring breeze.

Setting sun, you the rosy clouds."

Grandma threw a pillow at us: "Old man, why you use the stuff you wrote to me to help your grandson chase the girl."

Grandpa and I were tittering.

3.

In 1975, in the team of educated youth supporting the rural area, Richard followed the team to the dilapidated Town. Richard, who had never done farm work in his life, picked up a pole and fell into the rice field without standing still, which made the surrounding rural native partners laugh.

The only girl who did not laugh is Jessie, she did not care about the views of people around and ran over, picking up Richard and helped to put the pole down to Richard's shoulder, Richard was full of complaints until seeing the picturesque face, his complaints were like the meteor shotting across the sky, you never know where they fell.

Jessie handed over a handkerchief and turned and went back to continue her work, but people around them began to heckle: "You are the cloud, I am a bird, you are a mulberry leaf and I am a silkworm, you are dirt, I am grass..."

Jessie was not angry, continue to do the work in hand. the partners around got bored, a farce was to a curtain call.

After a day of farm work, Richard laid in a simple hut and could not fall asleep. He opened and closed his eyes with the same picturesque face in mind. Since he came to this Town, he had not been treated with respect, and he was like a rat crossing the street. But today is different. For the first time, Richard felt the respect he deserves as a human being.

So, Richard got up, poured a cup of tea, and wrote:

"Painting the skyline, you are the ink incense.

Writing all the mountains, you are the pen.

Passing each other, you are the spring breeze.

Setting sun, you the rosy clouds."

——Richard