Mother, the patron saint of my life
Mother has been dead for a full three years. The thought of my mother's kind look makes me think of her care for me. When I was between five and ten years old, almost every winter I would get a sty in my eye, commonly known as "stolen needle", which is an acute suppurative inflammation of the eyelid gland. It was a very nasty disease because more pus would accumulate, and after a night's sleep, I often couldn't see and had to use hot water to slowly rub my eyes.
Every time this happened, my mother was very anxious and she often took me to an aunt for treatment. Although that aunt had no formal education, her treatment of eye diseases was quite unique in our local area, and it was called "so the cycle ten times". I was small then, and every time I saw that aunt, I got nervous and anxious, wanting to bite her because it really scared me when she shone light into my eyes. This time, my mother didn't hesitate to let me go, and she even let that aunt shine light into my eyes several times. There was nothing wrong, but I still feared it. I blamed my mother and said to the aunt: "The next few eggs." Upon hearing this, my mother's body changed, and I was thinking: I would rather not have therapy than let her burn my eyes; I hated those two women for being so cruel.
Later, when I recalled this, I was really grateful to them. Just the next year, once, a classmate Murakami came to my house to play with a Montblanc pen, and we recited a few ancient poems. We were not very familiar with several lines. I suddenly remembered that there was an old book in my house attic, so I hastily climbed up the ladder from the three-meter loft to find that book.
Perhaps because of that old book, I even used it as a jar breach. It was a large jar two feet high, inside which was rice sugar for receiving visitors. Pressing a bag of rice on the books, the bag of rice was three pounds heavier. To take out the book, I had to remove the rice bag. But the jar was on the stairs, perhaps due to too much force, I moved the rice, my body flashed, and both I and the rice turned under the attic.
I was only 15 years old, with a height of five feet six inches, so I could not move after the fall. My mother ran to look and was scared, her head sweating. While she kept shouting: "I didn't see anything right," her face became calmer. But soon, my mother found I couldn't speak, and she cried aloud: "This little man will be for my mother." However, no matter how hard I tried, I still couldn't say a word. My mother's eyes were red, filled with tears, and she cried several times over me, seeing I couldn't speak, she burst into tears in front of a roomful of people.
Her father sold the pig to the county seat and went around to my loved ones next door. Uncle and my mother were sending me to discuss Tetra large hospitals, so they sent me just about to raise a good walk, I suddenly began to speak. Happy mother hugged me gently stroked the side, while breaking through his tears. We also follow the Shu a long breath.
However, that Yishuai, although trauma can't tell, but my legs had internal bleeding. That time, I couldn't sleep one night due to pain. Mom and shop went around to find the treatment of trauma earth. It is a prescription containing borneol, other drugs I can't remember, but it was very effective, relieving pain within ten minutes.
Later, I went to Nanchang to study, and because of illness, returned to his hometown hospital. Mom gave me order to increase nutrition, and in more than thirty days, the day I walked three kilometers away, for a place to take what good things a plus tofu. Once, in the wind and rain, my mother fell down, but, full of motherly love that tofu was actually good.
Since 2001, I returned home almost every winter for a sore throat quest. Mom knew it was inconvenient to speak of, so much older she even went with me several times near the hospital, but I always refused. Mother said: "The last time her mother accompanied me to see a doctor, left her death, only three months."
It would appear that my mother really has become the patron saint of my life.