From the father being a sunny teenager who goes to work full of energy every day,
to the camera portraying the mother working as a maid in an upper-class home.
Every day, my mother watched my father's little bicycle speeding by by the window.
When does love sprout.
One day my father knocked on the door of my mother's patrons, sent a bunch of flowers to my mother, introduced himself, and invited him to watch a movie.
Everything is natural and comforting.
Mother and father got married naturally.
They borrowed all their savings to buy a house.
At the beginning, from a bed, and later to my father, he personally made all kinds of furniture for the family.
The picture is warm and beautiful.
To have a baby, to give birth to a baby.
The love of parents is like a running account.
But it's always beating on my heart.
Obviously it's just an ordinary thing, sitting in front of the computer,
tears welling up in my eyes.
I keep thinking, how much do I know about my own parents' stories? ?
Maybe each of us should ask our parents, how did you start?
How did you feel when you were with me?
The hearts of parents all over the world are the same.
But every story and heart.
It is worth remembering, no matter what method
is in your heart.
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