my father

My father, Zhou Qiwei, used to be the director of Bali Lake Farm and secretary of the farm party committee.

My father is simple, open-minded, kind, and upright. He is a true Communist Party member with faith.

According to the household registration system, our whole family is from Xinzhou. In 1965, my father was transferred from Zhangdu Lake Farm in Xinzhou to Bali Lake Farm in Qichun. His position remained unchanged and he was still the farm director.

Apart from seven children, there was basically nothing. The family took a boat to go eastward, and took a family photo in Huangshi on the way. The youngest one in the middle was me. This photo has always been treasured by me.

The farm had just been built, and everything was waiting for him. My father worked hard all day and night to work on the farm. The level of hardship was unimaginable.

Although the family moved here, the cadres at that time lived and ate in the main building. For example, when Dayu was controlling floods, he "passed through the house three times without entering." The house was nearby. I rarely saw my father. Make the farm your home.

In the spring, I rolled up my trousers and went barefoot in the mud fields to discuss with cadres and workers how to sow rice for high yields, hoping for a better harvest.

In the summer, wearing a straw hat in the golden rice fields, sweating profusely, harvesting rice with the workers, and enjoying the joy of harvest.

In the autumn, in the cotton field, among the blooming white cotton, I sang and laughed with the cadres and employees to celebrate another good harvest in the experimental cotton field.

In winter, while building water conservancy dams, I chatted and worked with the workers, opening canals and building dams to prepare for production in the coming year.

What impressed me most was that one year when the epidemic was serious, Bali Lake was surrounded by rivers on three sides, especially the Waijiang River. That place was the top priority for epidemic prevention every year.

My father was hospitalized with tuberculosis. His condition was only stable but not completely cured. He looked at the pouring rain outside the window, frowning and anxious. He insisted on being discharged from the hospital and rushed to the front line of the epidemic prevention and control department. Commander-in-chief, fighting on the outer river embankment.

I remember that my father was in a hurry when he went to the embankment. He didn't bring any clothes or medicine. I followed my mother's order to go and deliver clothes and medicine.

When I arrived at Waijiang from the main site, it was getting dark. On the dam, I saw my father who was about to board a boat to patrol the dam. My father took the things and asked me to wait at the headquarters. I insisted. When he wanted to board the boat, his father acquiesced with a serious face and said nothing.

The rain was still falling, and the water was almost close to the river embankment. Except for people patrolling the embankment, the patrol boat was checking the situation on the river. I staggered onto the boat, and the searchlight on the boat reflected the rolling waves. On the river, under the hazy night, my father's face was as green as a cloudy sky. On his thin face, his eyes were wide and round, for fear of revealing any danger.

From my father's resolute face, I saw that he was not afraid of hardship and hardship in his life, but was most afraid of distrust. During the Cultural Revolution, he became a "capitalist roader" and stood aside completely. At that time, my father was no longer a The farm director was criticized, put on an "airplane", and sent to the breeding brigade for re-education. He was reinstated after the Cultural Revolution.

Even then, my father still worked hard on the farm. He loved the farm workers, loved every plant and tree on the farm, and loved the warm land of Bali Lake Farm. He worked until he retired as secretary of the party committee of the farm.

Time flies, and my father has gone west. The optimistic and cheerful man must be parading in the sky, enjoying seeing the new look of the farm and seeing the happy employees.

Although we are originally from Xinzhou, we grew up in Balihu Farm, where we have a familiar countryside, close classmates, and good friends. We are Balihu Farmers in our hearts, and Balihu is the only It's hometown.

In fact, I want to say that my father is just one of the old farmers, a splash in the long history of the farm. My parents are proud to be farm people, and we are also proud to be descendants of the farm.