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Buddhist story: A calm life begins with willingness: Grandmother Rose in winter

Buddhist story: A calm life begins with giving up 2023-08-02

Grandmother roses in winter

When my grandmother was alive, the nearly 500 square meters of yard in her hometown was the cleanest, most beautiful, and the most fragrant in the village.Grandma is a child of a wealthy family, but her biological mother died early, so she understood the hardships of life too early. In order to find a partner to talk, grandma began to fall in love with flowers, especially roses.I heard her say the reason for her to like: it is beautiful but not charming, fragrant but not greasy, and she will bloom her most beautiful flowers all year round, and she has a kind of happiness that is as simple as possible when she is with roses.In my eyes, grandma's personality is like a rose, not ostentatious, not stingy, simple, and consistent.

I still remember that one-quarter of the yard was all grandma's roses, vermilion, bright red, bright red, pink, white, purple, golden and orange-yellow, several colors on one golden and orange-yellow plant, especially the few color-changing roses, single-petal flowers, light yellow when they first bloomed, then turned orange-red and red, and finally became slightly dark. My God, at that time, I was fascinated by it at that time, and grandma loved to tell mythological stories, so I always fantasized about the arrival of the rose fairy on a full moon night, asking her to reward two things: one was to reward grandma's hard work, and the other was to reward my infatuation.Grandma once smiled and said, "I will keep her and introduce her to my grandson as her daughter-in-law." Fairy Rose must be very kind."Such a fantasy will never come true, but her grandson found her own rose fairy. Unfortunately, her grandmother did not have the chance to see her grandson's rose fairy.

In spring, the roses in my yard are the forsythias of the whole village. People passing by my gate will say that it is time for the swallow to come back;In summer, the roses in my yard are the pleasure of the clans after appreciation, and the reward for the children to burst into tears and laugh after falling;In autumn, the roses in my yard are ripe with pomegranates. The gathering place for the whole village to watch the moon and taste moon cakes. Especially in late autumn, the whole village will happily take the rose branches that have just been pruned from my grandma. After a hearty laugh, it seems that I can see the fragrance of the garden of flowers in my yard;In winter, the roses in my yard are a green concentration in the whole village. The elders in the village always say to my grandma enviously: Only your family can keep spring all year round.At that time, rose became a village flower. Looking at the joy of the clans, my grandmother herself thought that this rose that accompanied her growth was her pride.Weeding, fertilizing, catching insects, and pruning are all my unique skills. The branches cut by other homes never bloom like the bright colors of my home. I asked my grandma why, but my grandma just said that she was loving flowers with her heart.I don’t know when I started calling roses grandmother roses. When my grandmother heard this, she smiled and kept praising me for being able to name me.In her smile, I seemed to see my grandma's love as a girl.

Until grandma passed away, these flowers were still remembered. She said that grandma would leave sooner or later, but grandma would stay with us and asked us to take good care of these flowers.That year, my grandmother passed away.According to custom, the elder brother came to guard the soul from thousands of miles away for his father who could not be loyal and filial.After three days of wake, after we met grandma's last time, as the elder brother lifted the tiles above his head, he smashed them with a trumpet. The long funeral procession sent grandma to grandma's side, right next to the small river beside the village.

When all the favors came to an end, one morning, my elder brother and I were so scared by my mother's scream that we ran out of the room with a stick. We saw my mother keep saying, "Look, look, what's wrong with these flowers? Why are all withered and withered."At this time, I looked around and saw that the large rose bushes were all withered without any escape, and the leaves were drooping, just like vegetable seedlings that were severely dehydrated and could not be saved.In the cold winter, my elder brother and I didn’t even bother to wear thick clothes and quickly watered them. We thought that the flowers would be back when the weather was hot at noon, but unexpectedly, we did not wake up at noon. In the afternoon, something more serious happened: all the leaves fell.In the evening, in front of grandma's portrait, my mother said that it was only seven days, and your grandma had only been gone for seven days, and these flowers were also gone with her.

With pain and loss, we left the old yard where the fragrance of flowers was lost. My father cried and said that he would plant a rose again when he was rebuilt the house.Earlier, my parents went back to repair the old house and told my mother about planting roses again. When the two discussed, they felt sad and sad, so they planted some old rose roots in the third uncle's house.

Rose, grandmother rose, a spiritual elf, what I left for me is not only longing, but also the inheritance of love.

【Life insights】

In the colorful life, flowers are the most beautiful messenger.Grandma passed away, and those beautiful roses were with her.The impetuous heart cannot raise fragrant flowers. Isn’t my love for flowers also a love for life?Isn’t the thought spent on spending his attitude towards designing life?Only those who are calm inside can smell the fragrance of flowers and cultivate gorgeous flowers.

2024-02-05 18:02
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