School Media Literature | There is a vegetable garden in front of my house (prose)

Grandpa left, but left us a small vegetable garden.

Every harvest season, we have endless fresh fruits and vegetables to eat. The long, thin loofah can be seen in the vegetable garden. Big gourds and gourds hang on the vines, crumbling like naughty fat dolls. Although the corn grown at home is not as yellow and plump as the corn bought outside, it is fragrant and sweet, sweet in my heart. There are countless oranges, grapefruits and figs in the yard. I guess Grandpa planted all the delicious ones.

Grandpa is a man who can’t rest, either making brooms at home or working in the fields. The morning sun was slightly cool. When I woke up in the morning and opened the window, I saw my grandfather watering and fertilizing the green crops early and walking back and forth. At this time, I shouted: “Grandpa!” Grandpa would follow the sound and wave at me and then smile at me. I occasionally go to his small vegetable garden, but mostly for bad things. The third grandfather raised a few chickens in the old house, and I crept to the grandfather’s vegetable garden to pick up a few vegetables to feed the chickens. , I can’t help but be discovered by my grandfather back and forth like this. He is not annoyed, but he just pretended to be angry and let me pull it out a little less. But at that time, I didn’t know that these seemingly ordinary vegetables that were readily available would, one day later, I will miss them constantly.

My grandfather has experience in farming, and people in the village will come to him for advice when they have questions about farming. At this time, he often smiles and analyzes in a straightforward manner, what pesticides cannot be used, and what products from whom can the seedlings grow vigorously. And he would do something that surprised me in order to take care of the land. I remember once it was raining outside the house, he just sat on the bench preparing to eat, stood up as if he had been electrocuted, then rushed into the vegetable garden to fiddle with the plumbing, muttering something I didn’t understand. But it’s amazing, under his careful care, everything in the vegetable garden seems to be enchanted and grows up with the wind. Check back in a few days, and it’s full of fruit. He also taught me to grow peanuts, but he said it was peanuts. In fact, he just helped him sow good seeds. I would have to worry about watering and building a shed afterward. When the peanuts showed up and could be picked, my grandfather proudly told others, “These peanuts are ours.” At that time, I was embarrassed, and my face was flushed, thinking that I didn’t do anything at all.

The vegetable garden is a small world. Earthworms, sparrows, and bees are frequent visitors. In earlier years, romantic fireflies could be encountered. Of course, this small world also contains some unique memories. While farming, my granddaughter listened to him with relish on the mystery of how cats catch fish, and the story of Zhou Enlai and Khrushchev’s battle of wits and courage…

After my grandfather left, I would often go to the vegetable garden to go around. I found that this year’s cucumbers are growing very well. Standing in the vibrant and sunny garden, I sometimes wonder if the water tank fence and the thorny cucumbers in the vegetable garden miss my grandpa as much as I do…

Editor in charge: Cao Jing, Wang Jun, Li Bi Ruoxu

Source: China Youth Daily Client