弯弯曲曲的小路上,爷爷、弟弟和我,翻过一个小山坡,走进那片杨树林,就看见了爸爸孤零零的小坟。坟前没有墓碑,坟上长满了杂草。爷爷用手中的镰刀,轻轻地把坟地周围清理干净,像呵护一个受伤的孩子,我摆好祭品,点上冥纸,看着眼前跳动的火光,禁不住流下了泪水…… On the meandering path, my grandfather, my brother, and I climbed over a small hill and walked into the poplar forest and saw my father’s solitary grave. There are no tombstones on the grave and there are weeds on the grave. Grandpa used his scythe in his hand to gently clean up the area around the cemetery, like pampering a wounded child. I set a good offering, and I spotted the paper and watched the flashing light before I could not help but shed tears....