I am full of curiosity about the history of my family, and I have an endless desire to understand my family. During the Chinese New Year in 2014, I talked to my grandmother about her experiences during the Cultural Revolution. She said that the landlord was knocked down and there was no land, and grandpa went to jail. The family members are unable to help each other due to various class pressures. Grandma took the children alone, and there was not enough food to eat, so she stood by the door of the brigade canteen, and she immediately picked up the rotten vegetable leaves thrown away in the canteen. When she talked about this passage, she couldn't stop crying. I'm like a scavenger of memories, picking up the past that no one listens to, so my grandma doesn't talk about it anymore. But in this conversation, I have a lot of understanding and affection for my grandma, my dad, and even history.
I also have the habit of scavenging waste. Even now it has become my hobby. I pick up the rubber bands that fell off the road and tie my hair. I can also pick up paper and pen. Second-hand books are just right. I even think that I can do work that others don’t want to do. I often love crooked melons when I buy fruit, and I get chopped off. I also collected the branches of the vines at home, and I picked the wildly growing vines back for cooking. Scavenging means understanding life, and your own life has become a system, which is simple, simple and free.
Like, the word scavenging is not common anymore. But I took a moment to pick it up and love myself more.
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