The story is really sad, reminiscent of a sentence circulating on the Internet, "I'm sorry, my hand that lifts bricks can't hug you".
It seems that a similar predicament exists for foreigners too.
Dad lost his "iron rice bowl" and could only be a courier boy. But the conditions for a foreigner to be a courier are quite harsh. In order to run the courier, my father has to buy a car.
If you don’t have money, you can only take a loan. My mother didn’t agree with this point, because my mother’s work is also very hard. It is too risky to sell a private car to buy a courier car.
Moreover, the father who is new to the industry, the express delivery business is even more stumbling.
My mother, who lost her private car, had to take the bus to work.
Although it is said that the bus business of foreigners has developed well, it still affects my mother's travel after all.
Family time has to be sacrificed for work.
This is a family drained by life.
Even worse, the child has reached the age of rebellion.
Nothing is going well.
The family has become a place for people to breathe, and the laughter it deserves has probably disappeared for a long time.
Children who did not understand the hardships of life just intuitively lost the warmth of their families.
This kind of life is suffocating.
The collision of ideas is inevitable.
Adults, however, are tired of debates that only remind them of the coldness of reality.
Does the effort pay off?
Not necessarily, even definitely not.
The story is so sad, so sad that you are desperate.
The little girl in the story just wants to keep a touch of warmth in the family.
Even if it's a small moment, everyone can have a happy meal and tell a joke as before.
Maybe a warm afternoon.
Then go to face this bloody life.
This is just a wish.
Maybe this is life.
You can't stop to think, or even stop to miss.
Because that will drive you crazy.
The mourning of the story is the mourning of adulthood.
Sorry we missed you.
Who is it that missed us?
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