Sitting in the sun, reading Yu Hua's "Alive". Fragrant, thoughts still exist in the words "primitive, easy, lively, easy, life, not easy". The flowers in the book brought me the first perfume under the sun. I remembered Osmanthus, and remember my grandmother was a flower. I always feel that my grandmother is like Zhuo Wenjun. Although he does not have the knowledge of a talented woman, he dares to pursue his love. My mother said that Grandpa is also an intellectual Cheap Cigarettes. The grandma who didn't understand the big words boldly admitted to her grandfather that she finally lived a happy life. My grandmother once said that this doctor had been planted in front of the hospital when he was recently married. As soon as I talked about this scented osmanthus, my grandmother always smiled. When I first saw this tree in my childhood, it was a rainy season in autumn. Since he did not know the name of this young man, he only knew that he was sitting under the tree, watching the clouds, the light, and listening to the hundreds of people on the branches. The bird lifted up and smelled the fresh air. When I grow up, I will like this tree. I have more observations. There is a yellow button on the four white petals. I looked at it from a distance, and the branches were covered with a thin layer of snow. Because they are small, they never live in isolation. They always hold hands to do their tasks on the tree, silently emitting their own light Carton Of Cigarettes. Every week, when I go back to my grandmother's house, I always like to give my grandmother a handful of osmanthus in my box. I will leave a slight scent on my hands. After the grandfather passed away, the grandmother put her heart on her child. My sister and I sometimes bother her Marlboro Red, but she always smiles silently and continues to do what she can do for us. This is not like a sweet osmanth, quietly dedicated to the world, it supports everything. Last fall, my grandmother fell ill. The children did not tell their grandmother that she would go for chemotherapy. Instead, he went out to play with his grandmother, but his grandmother always refused. She said: "Go out and spend money, you will be happy for me at home!" Then we want to worship in front of the grandfather's portrait, I saw his hands together, a sincere face: "Old man, do you know? The sweet-scented osmanthus we planted in the past opened again, but unfortunately I thanked him for a while. Bless all the family and peace, today is your 80th birthday, and see the whole family to see you. Tears flowed into dark eyes, and Grandma wiped her eyes dry. Take a plate of vegetables, osmanthus cake, sweet osmanthus cake in the sleeve. I couldn't help shouting, "Grandma." Grandma, you must know that although the flowers are grateful, the fragrance still exists. Although you regret the gloom of osmanthus, it has spread the fragrance to the world. Grandmother likes a flower, life does not need to be as red and purple as a peony, as beautiful as a canna, life as long as osmanthus is a kind of silence, clear and powerless dedication. Now osmanthus has withered, spring rain has fallen, and the inexplicable atrium is immersed Dyeing
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