That winter sweet potato fragrance

Face in the exam that year, I had just finished 16th birthday.Eyeful bleak desolate winter landscape, with my mood, as due to continuous simulation test is not ideal, I fell to the extreme of emotions. Home from school every day, I will go through a deep lane, alley mess everywhere reveal run-down atmosphere. I often think the bitterness is not discouraged by the state of mind is the reflection of it? Old alley, lonely people, lonely north, all related to pre-arranged the whole thing, I even rising from the heart, inexplicable despair.Days getting cold, I wrapped themselves in thick cotton, the fall into a hibernation-like static. Do not know when to begin, each time through the alleyways, I will find an old man. At first, I do not care. Once, twice, a long time, I began carefully to the old man looked up.Said the elderly, in fact, he is not old, looks vaguely 50-year-old age. He was wearing a very simple, a thick linen tied at the waist quite arbitrary. Very thin old man, wizened face easily reminiscent Laoshupi, his eyes glazed, half-day only blink once. Elderly people stood in front of a big stove, stove top and sometimes the smell of roasted sweet potatoes blowing rains, the cold air to bring misty warmth.I like to eat very little when roasted sweet potatoes, then, I was grandma who lives in the countryside, every winter, the grandmother would give me roasted sweet potatoes on the stove to eat, grandmother while baking, while my story, until now I often think of that picture, I think of our fireplace and sitting two scenarios. Dad told me that grandmother also died that winter and then the last piece of baked sweet potato for me, so when I noticed that much of the old coal stove, my heart would slowly rising from the warmth, even a kind of moist eyes feeling.I stopped, walked to the elderly, and I said, Grandpa, I want a baked sweet potatoes.Old people looked at me, eyes full of kind. He handed me a piece of the largest, said the child, holding fast, fresh-baked. I looked at old hands of the sweet potato is not Shenshouqujie. Old man's hand on the way will be determined to stop in mid-air. I said, Grandpa, I do not have that much money. Old man laughed, he said, all right, Grandpa's price by at least give you.Took sweet potatoes from the old hands, I suddenly felt very hot, I put sweet potatoes quickly change from left to right. The old man said be careful kids, do not burning. I immediately became very red face, I bowed my head gently to say thank you, you hurriedly fled the scene. After going very far, will disappear in the alley in front of me, I turned around, looked old one. Old clothes unsteadily in the cold shivering, I was suddenly an acid.Sweet potatoes again spread through the elderly, when I did not intend to stop, those days I feel terrible, my mind has been on the morning of the physical paper big red cross. They reveal the hideous face at me as if I stop all the time the pace of progress. I am simply a stray deer in the forest stumbled, tired exhausted.The elderly are far to see me, he waved at me. I had to works slowly walked to his front, he had just baked a sweet potato into my hands. I struggled a little bit, I said, Grandpa, I no money today. Old Han Han smiled, his face piled up thick creases. He said, I do not want your money, your students are also quite easy baby, I see you every day from here, and often take care of my business, so today I ask you to eat.I looked blankly in the hands of sweet potato, sweet potato black color of some slight, but the aroma has been disperses. I suddenly felt some throat astringent. I say, thank you Grandpa.Elderly out of rough hands on my head and gently stroked a bit. He said that the child is not having what something goes wrong, tell Grandpa, Grandpa can help you to see.Then old man reached into his pocket to explore what underwear, a long pause, the old man put a handful of coins into my hand, I hastily shook his head, I said, grandpa, not a question of money, our family does not money.That is why ah? I see you every day, languid. Old tone of voice, there are obvious urgent.I study well, to be in the exam, I was afraid enough to test key high school, called my parents sad. I said, choking back tears.Old man did not say anything, he gently sighed, after quite a while, he said, the child, not the past does not cross the threshold, I believe your grandfather, if they work hard, nothing is impossible. Then, from the elderly to push tricycle, and turned slowly away.Old lonely looking back, I suddenly felt very moved, I thought secretly to myself, grandfather was right, as long as I work hard, and certainly will be successful, so I should not give up on themselves. I peel the sweet potato skin, gently bite, an mellow quickly occupied my taste, the winter sun in my hands and sweet potato at the moment, I suddenly found hope, the whole body is full of fighting spirit.Since then, I have never seen the old man selling roasted sweet potatoes, but each time after a piece of the alley, I would slow down, I hope the old man suddenly appeared at my side. But this hope has not been realized.Gradually the winter snows melt and spring girl also chose to leave quietly, in the examination of the approaching day by day, when I sit tight-year results have been top three, I seem to have seen the victory of the shadow.There is also a test from the week, I send a letter to the area near the post office.Opened the door the moment, I thought I was hallucinating, I clearly see the old man selling sweet potatoes are lying on the counter what was written on the hard. I ran over, say out loud, Grandpa. Elderly back to see me, his face showing a smile of joy.Said the old man, you come just a child, quick to help me write about the address.Later, I learned that old people money for his son, the old man's son because the wounded man, in suburbs of a prison sentence, the old man just so I chose to leave because he felt that pick up waste earn more than the selling sweet potatoes more money.From the post office out of the sun appears extremely bright, through the layers of the shade, I seem to see the passing of the birds from the sky, I suddenly discovered that once the suffering is so fragile, so long as we are strong, does not cross over the ridge.