When I was about 8 years old, I was playing by the river. Upstream came a small basket with green flowers. Because it was near the river bank, I got it to the bank with bamboo.
Look carefully. On the top of the basket is a quilt, beside which are some little girls’clothes. When I uncovered the quilt, I found that there was a “doll” in it. She was dressed in baby clothes, and her skin was very white and lovely. I could not help but put my hand on her face. The touch is totally different from that of a doll. There’s a sudden flash of lightning in my mind: this is a drowning baby girl!
When I got home, soap and soap washed my hands more than 20 times and cried out as I washed them: I touched the body, I touched the body, it was bad, and my hands would rot. After my mother came back, she comforted me for half a day.
About half a year later, the same place, but not the river, but the river bank. When the truck was cleaning up the garbage dump, it turned out the body of a newborn baby, which had rotted and blackened. The viscera did not know whether it had been eaten by animals. There was only a little skin in the abdomen, like a broken bag. The forklift truck threw the body of the newborn into the garbage truck like garbage. I just came home from school, witnessed the whole journey, and listened to the adults next to me to tell me what was going on.
At that time, the popularization of sexual knowledge was very poor. Many young men and women were ignorant. They were pregnant and did not know what to do. They were born unable to support themselves. As a result, such a tragedy was caused.
The baby girl’s mother must have been reluctant to give up her, quilts and clothes, and clothes were ready several years later. I think she must have been reluctant at that time. It would have been very painful to know that the child drowned. But it must be emphasized that this mother has a hole in her mind – — Nima’s big wooden basin, the thin basket just enters the water very slowly, not not not into the water, even if you fill the mattress around and at the bottom, it’s strange not to drown.
Even in adulthood, when she calms down, she sometimes thinks of the drowned baby girl, a beautiful doll, and her skin, and what kind of life she would have if she could survive. She will play, will be happy, will read and study, put on her biological mother to prepare new clothes for her, and finally she will grow up, may go to college, will work, become a beautiful girl, will love, will find their own true love, happy life.
Every time I think about it, the doll appears immediately. There is no “if” in the world. She died long ago. All the good things, all the possibilities and all the hopes have been strangled as early as a few months ago. The reality is so cruel.
This shadow of childhood directly affects my view of love and marriage. Originally, it is a flying character. If it is not for this, adulthood will be mostly a scum man. This makes me feel that if a man (or woman) is flirtatious and irresponsible in marriage and love, what kind of pain and disaster will be caused to the children, so I have been paying more attention to the problem of self-cleaning.
If there is heaven, I hope that baby girl can be happy in heaven.