母亲走了,任凭我撕心裂肺地哭喊,她却像睡着了一样静静地躺着。腊月的天气,寒冷而无情,坐在母亲的遗像前,眼泪像断线的珠子难以禁住,那过去的日子也点点滴滴地涌现在我的眼前。母亲是一位很普通的妇女,普通的就像盐坨上的一粒盐,朴实无华。从小就失去父母的她,把全部的爱都给了我们姐弟六人。记得母亲说过,在60年代困难时期,为了能够让我们吃饱饭,她常出去打零工。有一次,母亲找了个推盐的活, Her mother left, let me piercing cry, she was lying asleep quietly asleep. In the twelfth lunar month, the weather was cold and unforgiving, sitting in front of the mother’s portrait, it was hard for her to burst her eyes like a broken thread, and the past days were pouring over my eyes. Mother is a very ordinary woman, ordinary salt salt on a salt, plain. She lost her parents from an early age, gave all her love to our siblings six people. I remember my mother said that during the difficult times of the 1960s, she often went out to work odd jobs in order to be able to feed us all. Once, my mother found a salt push live,