See the story will cry _ super touching story (2)

I couldn't help shivering when I opened the window. Velvety snowflakes floated into the room, and the outside world was wrapped in silver. A snowflake fell on my palm, cold and cold, and melted into small drops of water. The world is frozen, but the memory is waking up.

When I was a child, I sat in my mother's arms on the same snowy day. "Mom, look, what a big snow, so beautiful." Mom just smiled and touched my forehead and said, "Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time ... "

Once upon a time, there lived a teenager and a girl in a remote town. The neighbors in the town are like a family, quiet and serene at night. But a heavy snow broke all peace and hope.

The temperature plummeted and the heavy snow lasted for three days and nights without stopping. It never snows in the town, and the weather is fine almost every year. Unseasonable heavy snow made crops fail, young and middle-aged people became bandits, all the food that could be eaten in the town was robbed, and beggars were everywhere.

Teenagers are the only ones who haven't robbed. He begged like everyone else, even though he clearly knew there would be no result. The place where we can find food in the snow has been taken away. People in the town who don't want to leave have melted in the snow, and those who can leave have already gone to their relatives.

The girl hasn't left yet, and her mother is ill. She has been hungry for several days and is dying. The teenager hurried into the girl's little house: "Look, I found something to eat, I found something to eat." There are still unmelted snowflakes in the messy hair, and the soles of the feet are red with cold. The only pair of cotton shoes has been given to the girl's mother to eat. The frostbite on her hand has already broken and purred. The so-called food is just a few unwashed lycopodium roots.

The girl happily took the grass roots, bowed her head, sighed deeply, and then turned to her mother with a smile: "Mom, look, we have found something to eat, please eat quickly!" " "My mother hung tears in her eyes, stretched out her arms like dead branches, slowly pulled out a grass and put it in her mouth to chew it carefully. Tears slipped down her cheeks inadvertently: "delicious, you eat, you eat too!" "

The girl's smile suddenly stiffened, and she swallowed: "Well, we, we have already eaten, so don't worry." There are many places in that place. Let's dig more. The boy echoed and said, "Yes, yes, let's dig some more." Eat slowly. "When he spoke, the boy and the girl went out of the room and asked their mother to call, never looking back.

The snow is still falling, thin and dense, quiet and cold. The boy took the girl's hand and hesitated. He has no strength to walk any further. A few days later, he found some grass. "I'm sorry, I, I was so selfish. You gave all your food to my mother. " "It's okay, you see I'm so strong, can be hungry for a few days. After grandma died last year, I ate and lived in your house. If it weren't for you, I'm afraid I wouldn't be alive now. But you gave it to your mother. What do you eat? "

"I, I can find something to eat by myself!" Hearing this sentence, the teenager suddenly became angry: "No, you are not allowed to go, just stay at home, I'll find you something to eat, just wait, trust me." The girl was a little surprised, but she nodded in agreement.

When the teenager left, he would never forget that the food he had picked up was taken away by others, and he was beaten black and blue, lying on the ground for a long time. The snow is still falling, thin and dense, but the air is getting colder and colder.

A few days later, the boy came back with a bowl of rice in his hand. No one can recognize him, and there is no one in the town. He went back to the girl's hut, and the girl sat outside, staring blankly at the village entrance, but didn't get up to meet the teenager, just staring blankly. "where's mom?" The young man asked with difficulty. "mom? Mom is in the sky! " The girl pointed to the sky with a silly smile. The girl's feet were covered with snowflakes, but the teenager was unable to carry her into the house. The boy stuffed rice into the girl's hand, and the snow fell in the bowl and melted in his heart. It is soft and warm. The girl smiled, put her head on the boy's shoulder and closed her eyes quietly. The snow is still falling, thin and dense, but soft and warm.

Story 5: The old lady who picks up garbage.

Today, I met an old lady who was picking up garbage in the community. At the bus stop on the street, she still bent over and pulled her heavy rack car. From time to time, she stopped to rummage through the trash can, looking for those recyclable garbage. Her short white hair fluttered with the wind, which made her more vicissitudes and sad.

I haven't seen the old lady for several days, and I'm still wondering: will she be ill, or go to her daughter's house, or even if she finally shows up, she is still senile, and my heart is much calmer.

The old lady is about seventy years old, and she looks more like her eighties. She can't bend over, and her hair can't be whiter. She is the wife of a worker in the provincial military region and has lived in Qinghai all her life. She is not from Qinghai, but her face is very red. Because I don't like to pry into other people's secrets, I don't know much about her, even her name, but I know she has been doing the same job as picking up garbage. I don't know when she started to pick it up, but many people say that she has been picking it up. As an ordinary worker's family, she has a low education level and no formal job, but she still has to do housework and take care of children, so she must find something to do. It is difficult to do anything, and it is not difficult to pick up garbage. It doesn't need a high diploma or a clever mind. As long as you are not afraid of shame, as long as you are not afraid of hard work, as long as you are not afraid of dirt, you can do it completely. Even in the eyes of Zhuang people, this is the dirtiest and meanest job, no different from beggars. Therefore, although picking up garbage is very profitable, not many people are willing to do it. But she did it for decades. She bought a house with the money from collecting garbage. She used the money collected from garbage to send her daughter to college and finish her graduate studies. Now that she is old, she is still doing the work that enables her to make a living.

I have never seen a photo of the old lady, let alone what she looked like when she was young, but I think she must be radiant when she was young, because I have seen her daughter.

In the army, I am in charge of residential property management, and there will be some conflicts between property management and garbage collection. Not for anything else, just for safety and health. The old lady lives on multiple floors and has a basement. When she picked up garbage, she couldn't handle it that day, so she had to pile it in the basement. When the basement was full, she piled up in the hallway. She kept repeating the work, putting garbage in it every day, making the whole basement full of garbage and pungent smell everywhere. Residents have reflected over and over again, and the residential property has also advised over and over again, but she still goes her own way.

I can't let the residential property management get out of control just because I take care of her business, so I gave a ruthless order: let the cleaners throw out all the garbage and clean it up by themselves. The old lady must be extremely dissatisfied with what I did, but she belongs to that kind of honest person and didn't come out to argue, not even face to face. Maybe she found out and cried secretly at home with the door closed, or she might hide in some deserted corner and curse me loudly. But I didn't care too much. Everyone should safeguard their own interests and perform their duties. I must also safeguard my interests. Being heartless to her means being affectionate to most residents! But her daughter happened to go home, and when she heard about it, she quit and made a scene with the property management office, and her attitude was very tough. The property management office has no choice but to solve it in person.

In winter, the sunshine is mild and there is not much chill. In the yard of the community, I met her daughter, a very beautiful girl with foreign flavor and temperament. As soon as she met, she was very angry and asked me why I bullied her mother. I know she is a senior intellectual, and I don't want to quarrel with her. I just smiled and asked a few questions: Do you know how old your mother is? Do you know your mother's physical condition? Can you keep running around like this? Now that you have worked and have the ability to support your mother, why should you let the elderly suffer this crime? Since I love my mother, why should my mother, who has worked hard all her life, be laughed at and have no peace in her later years? Her daughter lost her original land, perhaps because she felt indefensible or because of her conscience. She said that in fact, she didn't want her mother to pick up garbage, and she advised her mother many times, but she just wouldn't listen. Maybe she has formed a habit and can't change it if she wants to. I am speechless, which is really an unquestionable reason. Like my thrifty old father, he still likes to walk in the street in shabby clothes, and he is not ashamed at all, even though you bought piles of new clothes.

I didn't quarrel with her daughter. I just asked her to persuade her mother not to pick up garbage from the perspective of protecting the elderly. But what will happen if the old lady really doesn't answer? Just like an alcoholic's heart itches when he smells alcohol, once an old man who is used to working has no work to do, he gives up his original job. Maybe he can only lie by the window and watch the fallen leaves outside the window all day, or he can only wander in the yard and spend the rest of his life in boredom. But will she turn around safely? Maybe my eyes are fixed on those beverage bottles, cartons and so on, and then my feet take off.

In fact, the old lady was really quiet for a few days after talking to her daughter. But soon I saw her curved figure again, and I saw her familiar shelf car. Helpless, I had to make a rule for the old lady: the garbage placed in the underground passage must be placed neatly, and the garbage with peculiar smell should not be stored, and it should be cleaned up in time. The old lady agreed, in addition to arranging people to check potential safety hazards irregularly to prevent fires, we will no longer do mandatory cleaning. The system is dead and people are alive. I don't look at the Buddha's face but show mercy. A poor old lady, I can't use power to smash her rice bowl, although she no longer needs this rice bowl to support her life. But I know that this is her spiritual bread and butter. Once forcibly broken, her spiritual world will collapse and her waist may bend lower.

So, the old lady finally got up the courage and continued to pick up garbage. Her garbage collection is not limited to Lanqing community, but also the garbage bins in other communities and outside streets are her goals. Every day at dawn, the old lady set off in a baggage car against the cold of the morning. Picking up garbage is also a good business now. There are not only garbage pickers outside, but also some family members from rural areas who are used to living a tight life, as well as cleaners who clean up, and occasionally do this business. But they will secretly rummage through the trash can and quickly put valuable things into the handbag, fearing that others will laugh at themselves and lose the face of their loved ones. Even my wife will only occasionally help the old lady clean up the garbage. More often, only the old lady is alone, pushing the trolley with trepidation, walking from one trash can to another, from one corner to another, reaching out her calloused hand, picking up paper and beverage bottles, throwing them into fiber bags, putting them in the car and leaving with satisfaction.

Only when there is love can there be care, and only when there is care can there be motivation. Life is always full of helplessness, and there are too many things to let go. Who didn't want to live for themselves, but in the end, because of too much love and too much concern, their lives were burdened. The old lady is the same, for her beloved home, for her lovely daughter, for her beloved grandson, for everything, becoming her eternal concern and a dream in her dream. Maybe she no longer needs such hard work, but she always has a belief: to pay as much as possible for the people she loves! So are we?

Sitting by the window in the dead of night, I think that persistent old lady slept soundly! Because of love, she is very calm; Because of love, she is full; Because of love, she is also very tired.

Tomorrow, she will still bend over and pull the heavy luggage cart to one trash can after another, repeating her familiar movements. Just like my father who has worked hard all his life, he still wears his tattered clothes and goes to work in the fields with a shovel, even though it is winter.

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1. A crying love story after reading it.

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4. The story of crying after reading a love story

5. After reading the selected love stories, I cried.