Stories related to ancient poems

Meng Jiao's mother said that during the Dezong period of the Tang Dynasty, Meng Jiao was appointed as the county magistrate of Liyang, Jiangsu. One night, he was reading in the study. After watching it for a while, he felt a little tired, so he stood up and went to the window. At this time, the bright moon is in the sky outside the window, and the night breeze is blowing gently. He looked up at the bright moon and was homesick. Looking back on my decades of studying hard at a cold window, I didn't become a scholar and a small county magistrate until I was in my fifties.

In these decades, how much effort the old mother has paid for herself! Every time I go to Beijing to catch the exam, my white-haired old mother is always busy before going out, preparing luggage for herself. Especially the night before I went out, my mother sat under the dim oil lamp and sewed clothes for herself stitch by stitch.

While sewing, my mother whispered, "sew more stitches and sew more closely, which will be strong and durable." Take care of yourself when you go out, come back early, and don't let your mother miss you at home ... "At that time, I listened to my mother's warm words and looked at her wrinkled face and frosty white hair.

Meng Jiao felt sour in his heart and his eyes were moist ... He deeply felt that maternal love was so great, just like the sunshine in spring. Meng Jiao thought of here, a passion echoed in his chest. He returned to the front of the book case and waved and wrote: "The thread in the hand of a kind mother makes clothes for her wayward child's body. Before leaving, I had a stitch for fear that my son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged. Who dares to say that a filial child like the weak can repay his mother's love like the sunshine in spring? "