It was the wish that my mother carried throughout the whole life, a small wish that was hopeless when she remembers her mother martyrs. Young people today lit candles gratitude Hung martyrs. Illustrated photo when I was sacrificed, my mother was 7 months old in my grandmother. My mother is a youngest child with 3 brothers. When I was sacrificed, my mother's brothers were less than 10 years old
. Even so, the little memories of the father's father in the two I was also slightly transparent, only my mother was born yet once knew her father's face. I said that, that day was the officer to work Network, many days he pointed home in the night in the small cellar to the left, every time he had many people who followed and secretly left when it was not in the morning. Even my grandmother has not clearly viewed his face, she only heard Mr
told her to prepare food, drinks, the necessities needed for this person and at any time to have. In addition, he did not say anything about the work he was doing, she never knew him today goes back. But every time he saw him about the night, hearing his voice told his wife and children a few minutes, it was one more time my grandmother with the worries, simulated, knowing he was still alive. One day, the worry My my calming was true. My grandfather and some people left after that night, many days later never returned. A few months waiting for tires to wear the figure he turned, but it was the day I received the news he sacrificed when he was ambushed. The prime notebook was sent to the house when my grandmother was born with my mother was more than a month old. The pain lost her husband when my grandmother was only 27 years old, leaving 3 small children and the elderly parents were weak, thought as my grandmother couldn't get up. However, the wife of martyrs are as long as my grandmother still has to try all the remaining strength to change her husband to raise a weak old-time parents and 3 wild poet children, so people. 7, my homemade cemetery shimmering, brilliant candles gratitude to the heroes of martyrs, I said, that day the war of the war, my grandfather was a revolutionary officer, secretly acting so never take a photo
Therefore, until now, on the worship of my family, my family only has a diploma with a martyr's name, quietly placing neatly in the photo frame, instead of the deciled person's picture. The last day he left the house was also taken as his death anniversary. My mother's poetry grew less than a day of his father's warmth, causing the desire to see his father in imagination, in the dream still show everyday. "I just hope to meet your father in my dream, I hope I know how to draw good to draw the face of my father as a picture on the worship ...". "I dreamed many times I dreamed of my father, but every time I couldn't see my face clearly ..." My mother still muttered like that, every time I remember my father in the nothingness and nostalgia endless father. I went out of my hometown of Kinh Mon district (Hai Duong), to build an economic in Ha Giang and then return to Tuyen Quang to live and work. At the time of retirement, Mother went back to Saigon to live for many years, so my mother had a little chance to leave her hometown to compress the incense on July 27 in the cemetery of martyrs of the commune. Even so far away, every year, on this day, the local government in the North or the South also invited my mother to meet, gratitude to family members. My mother always wears the most beautiful clothes, thinking that, certainly the sacred moments will have his soul to follow her mother to share the throttle with the youngest girl who lacks his father's love. He will be happy and rested safely when he saw a healthy and proud daughter because there was a father who was martyrs, was recorded by the country, gratitude. My mother in once in the countryside, to cemetery to burn incense Remember my father The opportunities my mother was far away from visiting martyrs cemetery where he rested in his hometown, our children's grandchildren both replaced his mother to imagine the incense to remember him and gratitude to the martyrs are also lying Along with him in the cemetery. On every 27/7, the cemetery where he lay shimmering, glowing in the candlelight of our descendants and the younger generation today of the commune to commemorate the spirit of the martyrs. Although he knew that the pain loss of relatives could calm out five months but would not be able to eradicate, as my mother's father remained in his mother throughout his life. Just a small desire to see the face of the father in the dream, is also unimaginable, my mother only knows to send it to the realms of it. A pond deserve is never a reality. . Dịch vụ:
Thiết kế website,
quảng cáo google,
đăng ký website bộ công thương uy tín
