Aunt who was still rummaging through the trash can at 1: 00 in the morning

I can't sleep, running in the community. I ran to one o'clock in the morning and saw an aunt still rummaging through the trash can. She is about fifty years old and has a rickety figure. She was carefully rummaging through the trash can, rummaging one after another, as if looking for something precious.

It's quiet around, and you can hear insects chirping. Almost all the lights of the residents in the community have been extinguished, and most people have fallen asleep. A tall building stands quietly in the dark, like a big bare tree, with its branches cut off.

Why is aunt still digging the trash can at 1: 00 in the morning? What is she looking for?

I stopped to talk to her.

"What are you looking for so late?" I asked.

"I'm looking for cardboard and plastic bottles that I can sell for money." She smiled at me, and several stripes extended from the corner of her eyes. These lines are deep, as if they were drawn with a thread, which is the thread of life.

"Why don't you pick it up during the day? It's time to rest. " I asked again.

"There are others to take during the day. They won't allow me to pick it up. I can only come at night when people are asleep and at dawn in the morning. " She answered.

"Who are they? Why not let you pick it up? " I feel very confused.

These are all rubbish thrown by others. Why can't we pick up things that others don't want?

Aunt smiled again, which contained a little helplessness: "They have been picking up garbage here for a long time and have a good relationship with the property. This can be said to be their territory. Besides, I'm new here, so I can't pick up garbage here. If I pick it up, I will rob them. "

I then understood what she meant: garbage, plastic bottles, express boxes and other things that can still be sold in the community are a kind of resource, and there are many people competing for this resource.

"It turned out that it was not easy to pick up garbage, but we still have to compete with others." I said with emotion.

"yes." Aunt replied.

I saw my aunt's face through the dim floor lamp. Her face is grayish yellow and full of wrinkles. I looked at her hand holding the paper box again: her hand was rough and full of calluses, and there were several white medicinal tapes wrapped around her fingers, in addition to several cracks-traces of life.

When my aunt saw me looking at her hand, she raised her hand and said to me, "Look at my hand, my ring finger and little finger can't stretch straight. When I was in my hometown in the countryside, I dug the ground to grow crops in spring, weeding and topdressing in summer, digging potatoes and breaking corn in autumn, pulling radishes and chopping wood in winter. I took care of my five acres and three points by myself! Later, I came to the city as a porter, picking cement and tying steel bars ... I relied on these hands and this strength ... Now I am old, leaving many problems behind, and I can't do too heavy work. I can only pick up garbage. "

Her voice was sad and sad. She is lamenting her rickety body and deformed hands, as if lamenting her miserable life.

I heard it in my throat and asked her, "Do you have children?"

Most women of her age have children. If she has children, if children have a little conscience, they will not let her go! I thought to myself.

"yes." She answered, and her expression became even darker, as if she had thought of something tragic.

"What about them now? Don't they care about you? " I asked directly.

"They just mind their own business and don't let me worry, let alone take care of me." Aunt said sarcastically and sadly.

Then my aunt confided in me.

Aunt said that she was born in a bad business, and her husband was an alcoholic and had a bad habit of gambling. She was drunk, went home and deliberately quarreled with her, hit her, went to the kitchen to get a kitchen knife and threatened to cut her, and died in a few years.

He drank too much and was out of his mind. He fell down on his way home and fell face down in the sewer on his way home. He never got up again. When others found him the next day, he was already dead.

When her husband died, their oldest child was 1 1 year old.

She has three children. The eldest daughter got married and gave birth to a child. When the child was three years old, she suddenly died in a car accident.

After she came out to work, she finally had a little savings. Later, her son-in-law wanted to do business and borrowed most of his savings. Unexpectedly, she lost them all. Her son-in-law also disappeared after her daughter left after the car accident and has not been heard from for many years.

The second son has never been sensible. In his twenties, he didn't go out to work. He always asks for money from home and takes it to eat, drink and be merry. Later, he met a group of friends who took him to gamble. He is addicted to gambling and often asks for money. He often comes back in the middle of the night to knock on the door for money, and once he even brought a knife to his door. Later, she moved.

There is also a little daughter, sensible and considerate, but still in high school. My youngest daughter is very competitive. She was admitted to the best high school in the city and got very good grades. She is in the top 50 in every exam. The reason why she gets up early every day to pick up garbage is also for her little daughter to study.

"Life will get better. When your little daughter graduates and finds a job in the future, you can relax a little. When the time comes, your mother and daughter will live together and let her support you. " I comforted her and said.

After listening to my words, she smiled with relief, as if thinking of something beautiful, but then the smile on her face dispersed like smoke, replaced by a more sad and desolate expression, which was mixed with sadness and guilt.

"What's the matter with you?" I asked.

"I don't have this blessing. I am a miserable woman, and I don't want anything. I only hope that God can give me more time to let my little daughter finish high school. " She suddenly choked up when she said this.

"Are you all right?" I handed her a tissue. "How old are you this year?"

"I am fifty years old this year." She wiped her tears and answered.

"Fifty years old is not old, don't worry too much, don't think too much, just take care of yourself." I comforted her.

She gave a wry smile and began to choke again. She cried and I sat down. She shed a lot of tears and used up the three packs of tissues I brought.

Life is too hard, she needs to vent, I think so. Crying is also good. Tears are an outlet. Her life was too hard before, but she should get better in the future.

At two o'clock in the morning, we said goodbye to each other. She'll go first, and I'll go later. I saw a piece of paper fall out of her pocket and fell to the ground.

I went to pick it up and tried to stop her, only to find that she had gone away.

It's a disease diagnosis book, which says the name of the first hospital of the province, saying that it is diagnosed with advanced lung cancer and has spread and metastasized all over the body.

I couldn't bear to talk to her again and found that she was gone.

I am a woman from bad karma.

Her sad, sad and helpless voice has been echoing in my mind.

Tonight, I will lose sleep again.