That jujube tree grew in the back garden of the old house in my hometown.

by jpvhaihai on 2011-09-22 15:29:09

Now that jujube tree is gone, and I regret not having kept even a single jujube seed. If I had kept one, I would have planted it carefully in the yard, and as the young jujube tree grew, I could see the figure of that jujube tree from my childhood.

I say this for a reason because that jujube tree once accompanied me through the toughest times of the 1960s when the national economy was struggling. Due to food shortages, we children who were growing up also had to endure hunger. Being able to eat thin porridge that you could see through was already quite good. When I couldn't bear the hunger anymore, I would sneak into the backyard and circle around that jujube tree. At that time, the jujubes hadn't fully grown yet; they were only about the size of peanut kernels, but I didn't care. I would just pick them off and stuff them into my mouth. Although the jujubes were still tender and had a grassy taste, they greatly alleviated my hunger. From then on, I set my eyes on the jujube tree in the backyard. For several years, as soon as I came home from school, I would throw my schoolbag aside and rush into the backyard, climbing the jujube tree impatiently to pick jujubes to satisfy my hunger. From when the jujubes first started to take shape until they turned red and matured; from being able to reach the jujubes from under the tree, gradually needing to climb the tree to get them, and finally when autumn winds blew, I had to use a bamboo pole while perched on the tree to barely reach the remaining jujubes. That jujube tree silently provided me with nutrients and solved my problem of an empty stomach.

Lu Xun wrote in one of his articles that there were two trees in his courtyard: one was a jujube tree, and the other was also a jujube tree. Every time I read these words, I am deeply moved, as they remind me of the jujube tree in the backyard of my hometown. Lu Xun wrote this way to emphasize that there were only two trees in the yard, and both were jujube trees. However, in our backyard, there wasn't just one tree; besides the jujube tree, there was also a grafted pear tree and two small apricot trees. I liked all the fruit trees in the garden, especially that grafted pear tree which bore sour pears on one side and sweet pears on the other—it was truly the pride of our family. But the jujube tree is what I can never forget. I regarded her not only as a close friend but even as the most genuine relative of our family.

I must plant that jujube tree in my heart and constantly keep her in mind.

In fact, I have already planted her in my heart, and we often meet in my dreams.

That jujube tree grew in the backyard of the old house in my hometown, and it was the first tree to take root in my dreams.

Actually, the jujube tree in the backyard of my hometown wasn't very remarkable. It was a typical local variety. The jujubes were relatively large but neither sweet nor crisp. The growth of the jujube tree wasn't great either. Its branches twisted and turned, its trunk wasn't straight, and it was extremely rough, like an elderly person who had endured much hardship, exuding an endless sense of沧桑 (沧桑 translates to "cang桑" or "hardship"). However, it bore abundant fruit. Regardless of drought or flood, regardless of whether it was a bumper year or not, its fruits always hung heavily on its branches. It seemed to understand people's difficulties and, despite its own weariness and burdens, strived to produce as much fruit as possible to help us get through the current difficulties. Therefore, I have always regarded her as a life-saving tree. Although she never gave me the feeling of a full meal, she effectively alleviated my hunger with her humble strength during the hardest times. Even after we had overcome those difficulties and no longer needed jujubes to fill our stomachs, I still couldn't forget that life-saving jujube tree. She had once nurtured me like a mother and protected me like a father, allowing me to have a robust physique even today.