Goodbye, old house of childhood

My home is not what merchant rich and so on, had not seen build imposing manner grand, carve column jade build by laying bricks or stones and so on mansion, needless to say the winding path in grand view garden is deep and quiet, bamboo creek is beautiful place, but za common people has an old saying, gold nest silver nest is inferior to oneself earth nest, that 4 earth walls, the place of one party eave calls home.

Now reinforced concrete is building the outline of the society, building my living space, but I do not know why the old house of hometown always in my dream with blue sky, flow haze, sunshine, childhood together repeatedly appear.

Childhood is a person's most warm dream, the old house is the place where the dream begins. The old house, with its crumbling walls and crumbling walls, has been built for years, but it is a reminder of my childhood. I can see glimpses of it, weathered but still standing. After years of baptism, time hone, still like a vicissitudes of life of the old man, supporting our family through the poor years.

Poor for children do not have a deep memory, perhaps just a bowl of wild vegetables on the table, perhaps just a patchwork layer of clothes, but poor for my grandparents, fathers enough to imprint on my heart.

When I went around the old house crying with joy because there was a small hole in the roof, I heard my mother's deep sigh: "This house will be renovated I don't know when." When it rained heavily, the family was always afraid that the house would not make it, but there was only a small light bulb in the house, so it felt like watching an old movie. Therefore, I did not like night at that time. Although the moon was dim outside the window, it was much better than this dim bulb. Later, I walked through a big city, in the first light of the moment, as if day, let me think of the northwest village house, found so many years of warmth I was only that dim light, always exist between the extinction.

Later my family moved into the unit to the parents of the house, to say goodbye to the house to accompany me through the warm childhood. I buried my most precious marble quietly in the corner of the old house and promised that I would come back to see it. But more than ten years passed, and I never went back to that old house. I had become accustomed to concrete buildings, old houses like faded photographs, the face blurred.

One day, grandma sent word that the old house would be demolished. I was surprised that all the silent memories came back to life in an instant, and the man who had promised it would come to visit was gone for years. I returned to the once familiar now unfamiliar road, but found that this is not the memory of the scenery, the road has been widened; And in the green tree cover is mostly red brick green tile bridal chamber, the car on the road to the car, there is a busy busy, that "cock crowing mulberry top, dog barking deep lane" memory has gone forever.

I quietly looked at the old house to give me joy and shelter, vicissitudes of life feeling on the face. When the old house collapsed, dust float in the sky as if you heavy sigh and nostalgia. My heart ached. If a ruined wall is the lament of a dynasty, is the collapse of the old house also the end of an era of poverty, backwardness and ignorance, and the beginning of another era of prosperity, progress and civilization?

Later, see Guyouguang write his century-old house "dust mud infiltration, rain ze bet, every move case, gu no place, and north, can not get the day, the day after noon already faint..." "I burst into tears.

Farewell, the house of my childhood!