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Carnation, mother's flower

One day in April, went to the market, buy a pot of pink carnations. To buy time, deliberately chose a basin no blossom, even the flower will not see. Just want to, in their own care, one point one point to nurture her, watering, fertilization, soil, leaf washing, looking at her and looked at her core, blossom. The most important thing is to her in full bloom in May, because May is mother's day, because carnation is the mother of flowers.
Carnation, mother's flower, because the mother, I fell in love with carnations, because of love, I read her ordinary beauty.
April Fangfei fall in May, has faded somewhat lively, quiet, my carnations at this time a full branch of flower, flower packet layer upon layer, green calyx wrapped, top bare crowded pink, unable to hold oneself back to break the bondage like, look at the people feel warm, feel an upsurge of heave. And the anticipation for the.
One day his mother took from home, along the way, both on and off, or crossing the road, mother always hold tightly in my hand, feel her with great care, there are mixed in the fear. Really, really old mother! Have been reluctant to admit this fact, however, whether I want to or not to accept, my mother really is no longer young. The heart is faint, eyes gush tide moist. Holding my mother's hand, saw the mother good looks, and let that sentimental his students pharynx into the heart, heart so pain.
This is a terrible thing, a son of a son of the turn, rush into a son go, mother from his hair to walk the grey-haired. In my memory, my mother was so young, so be full of go. The mother how old? How old this way? Her dark hair? Her straight waist? I was young and beautiful mother, the years have been in her hair to the wind, and was full of the vicissitudes of life on her forehead.
But the original, old is so unable to stop, so be a trend which cannot be halted, so unsatisfactory!
My mother's hand tightly, I don't want the mother left me, I want to hold her hand, through old age. As was the mother's hand, hold my life the same thread ·
I'm from birth, was a sickly child, mother into me love and hard work is always better than my sisters more. In my one more time, gave birth to a serious illness, to go to the hospital did not see why. Maybe when the medicine has not fully developed because of it, my life would only listen to the day.
Mom said I was, did not during the day and night crying, the beginning and the sound, though weak, but only to see the small mouth Zhang in asthma are no voice. The mother of all night watching over me, my mother said that her life is the day of the most helpless, only watched I ever declining down, unexpectedly is no power capable of saving a desperate situation.