Chapter 48 Father

My father is a mountain teacher.

In Meng Jingtong's memory, my father has always been a very, very gentle and generous person.

In a small mountain village, there is only one school within a radius of dozens of miles. In addition to my father, there is only another teacher over fifty years old. The two of them say they are teachers, but in fact, they are not only responsible for teaching without subjects, but also cooking for the children.

In that era, the hardships of the teaching teachers were actually not a secret, but Meng Jingtong remembered that his father was not sent to such a poor place.

Later, in his first year of teaching, he met my mother.

In such a small place, you can't hide any small things that are turbulent for a long time, let alone a gentle and gentle teacher came from the city.

Soon some girls in the nearby villages came to see him, thinking that they could be better. If they could not succeed, they would be better if they could see such a beautiful person. The small iron gate of the school was almost collapsed.

My father knew that it was not easy for a male student to study in such an environment, let alone a female student. He wanted to teach these girls some cultural knowledge, but no matter how hard he persuaded them, the girls just shook their heads and felt that they were girls and didn't have to learn these troublesome things.

This is a deeply rooted concept, but he feels extremely regretful in his heart.

Later, Meng Jingtong's mother appeared. She was wearing simple but clean clothes, her hair was tied behind her head like other girls, and she held a basket of eggs in front of the teacher shyly: Teacher, I am seventeen this year, can I still learn to read from you like them?

That's how they met.

Wow, it's quite romantic.Li Jiaojiao couldn't help but sigh: So your name and Jing Hua's name were both named by your father, right? No wonder it sounds so nice.

Um.Meng Jingtong said: My father taught me to read and write at home before I was in elementary school. Every year he would go out and bring me a lot of books back. He would first show my mother, then read them, and finally read them to Jinghua.

Most of the books were bought by my father at a second-hand book stall. He wrapped the calendar paper as a book cover, and then wrote the title and author outside. He is still placed at Meng Jingtong's home, and is neatly decorated with a simple wooden bookcase, completely retaining the breath and traces of his father's existence.

There is also love for him, for his sister, for his mother, for this family.

Books are very heavy... Li Jiaojiao went to class to hold two books and felt heavy. Imagine Meng Jingtong's father was going to take books so many times, and his heart felt a little sad.

Um.Meng Jingtong still remembers that when her father was alive, her mother sometimes looked like a girl and was often confused. She often joked to her father how she could survive alone without him.

But I didn't expect that my father would really leave her alone one day, and leave them alone and leave.

It doesn’t matter, Meng Jingtong.

Outside the window, a lonely moon hangs high in the night sky. Li Jiaojiao looked up and always felt as if it was within reach. She noticed Meng Jingtong's silence and stretched out her hand to touch it. The moonlight was temporarily blocked and fell from her fingers.

She giggled foolishly, feeling that she might have been fooled by her father, and she really wanted to catch the moon in the sky.

If I have me in the future, I will accompany you.

Meng Jingtong unknowingly walked around the window, and looked up at the moon in Li Jiaojiao's eyes and reflected in her eyes.

He suddenly remembered a cliché poem, and when he lowered his head, the corner of his mouth raised again before he even noticed it.

good.