When his father was babbling and learning languages, his aunt passed away, and his stepmother was very harsh on him. In order to appear sensible and to protect himself, he learned everything and did everything. Housework was not a problem, and he was especially good at work in the fields.

He did not read much and could not speak many philosophical words. I remember one sentence that he often said: Growing vegetables makes me calm. I am very happy every day when I see vegetables growing in joints. My father had a hard time growing and selling vegetables when he was a boy, but later he still had a soft spot for growing vegetables. I think only true love can ignore past grudges. He is very particular about growing vegetables, a habit he probably developed when he was young. The ridges and ridges are evenly spaced, the soil is finely broken, and the spacing between plants is particular. He will never do anything casually. His mother couldn't stand what he did. She always scolded him for growing vegetables like embroidery. She also said that he wasn't a designer drawing blueprints, so there was no need to be so serious. At first, I agreed with my mother’s point of view. I felt that growing vegetables and land was just rough work, and there was no need to be so meticulous and time-consuming. My father was unhappy after hearing what his mother said, and pretended to be angry and retorted to her: A designer's job is to draw drawings, and he must not be sloppy; I am a farmer, and my job is to cultivate seeds and harvest crops on the land. Although the type of work is different, But the attitude towards work is the same. Upon closer analysis, his words made quite a bit of sense, and I unknowingly joined my father's team.

My father put his emotions into growing vegetables. He was worried that the sparrows would eat the white radish seeds that he planted in the nest, so he bought clam shells to cover the seeds. His colleague Yun gave some tomato seedlings. , when the tomatoes were bearing fruit, he was afraid that wild mynas would peck the fruits, so he spent half a day building a mighty scarecrow to guard the position; as the vegetables grew, greedy little caterpillars climbed up and gnawed on the leaves. His mother suggested spraying pesticides, but his father opposed it. . So every morning, he put on his reading glasses to catch insects. In addition, pinch the carrot leaves to make the pickled dried radish heads grow stronger; turn the potato stems and leaves in the summer to allow the potato to store more nutrients. These things that seem of little significance to me are extremely important to him. He is busy with sowing seeds, transplanting, fertilizing, watering, weeding and other tasks every day, and he is very happy.

? My father has a cheerful and free personality, and treats people with sincerity and enthusiasm. His vegetable garden is his "social business card." In the six months since I came to my home, I have met more villagers than I have, and I even know a few people from the surrounding villages. One morning, an old man of similar age in a nearby village passed by his father's vegetable garden and couldn't help but praise the green vegetables. When a father hears other people praising his cooking, it is like praising his children, and his heart is instantly filled with a sense of accomplishment. He immediately happily approached the man and invited him to take a handful of vegetables back. The other party was startled. After all, he was not familiar with it and felt a little embarrassed anyway. He found a way out for himself and said that there were leafy vegetables at home that day and he would pick them out tomorrow morning. My father was an honest man and went to work in the vegetable garden early the next day. They say they are working, but in fact they are waiting for the person they agreed to verbally. He couldn't wait until he didn't come, and finally he just pulled out a lot of them and got to the person's home by asking for letters. After my father came back, he told us about the meeting between the two. He said that the man was very excited and quickly invited him to sit in the room. He made tea and handed cigarettes to him, and kept saying how embarrassed he was to eat the vegetables you grew. I can definitely imagine that the other person must have looked embarrassed at that time.

Analyzing this matter with my thinking, I always feel that the person may not really like my father’s vegetables, maybe he just talked about it casually, but my sincere father took it seriously and even delivered it to his door personally. A few days later, I was walking with my parents and ran into that man. He waved and said hello to my father from afar, as if he had met an old friend. After getting closer to each other, he immediately praised his father's dishes for not only looking good but also tasting better. Seeing the excited look on his face, you knew he really liked his father's food. Because I had previously taught my father not to be overly enthusiastic. If that person failed to make an appointment, it meant that he didn’t really like his food. After saying goodbye to his new friends, we moved on. Now my father was very arrogant, and he immediately educated me. Knowing that I was in the wrong, I immediately became possessed by drama, like a child who has done something wrong. I sincerely apologized to him, saying that I should not have buried his precious child, let alone misinterpret the meaning of his new friend.

Today, my mother told me that my father’s new friend brought a bag of persimmons in the morning, saying they were grown on his persimmon tree and had a great taste, so we could try them. I stared at the red bag of persimmons, thoughtfully. It was a reward for my father's kindness and a testimony of my father's friendship.

After my father's rotator cuff surgery last summer, he was somewhat disabled. I tried my best to persuade him not to work hard at growing vegetables in the future, but he wouldn't listen at all. In anger, I even secretly hid all his vegetable growing tools, but as stubborn as he is, any method would be ineffective as long as I tried to stop him from growing vegetables. After realizing that my father really liked growing vegetables, I no longer stopped him but encouraged him to do what he liked. In the view of my simple and honest father, the joy of growing vegetables is far more than just the pleasure of seeing bright green eyes, not only the pleasure of having a mouth full of fragrance, but also the joy of making friends.