Adoler

I am a tree, an old tree in front of a man’s door. The years have carved deep traces in me, and I have witnessed the passing of the fire from three generations to the next, and their faith and perseverance.
The first generation was called Li Ming, an ordinary farmer who sowed the seed from which my life was born. Later, he became a great firefighter. I often teased him, saying, this is not called a firefighter, it is called Dayu, who passes through the door of his house. He always laughed without saying anything, and then quietly went to fulfill his duties.
After a few more years, he also had a child, called Li Gang, who later became a fireman too. I often laughed at Li Ming, saying, he always said this job is tiring, this is good, it has become a family world.
He laughed and said no, it’s called faith.
Faith? I twisted the branch, full of doubt. Obviously, he often told me that Chinese people do not believe in Buddhism and monks do not believe in God Jesus. I couldn’t understand his words, so I could only lower the branch and listen to his teachings.
Later on, Li Gang also had a child called Li Siqian, who also became a firefighter. I couldn’t help but laugh. Hey! You family! Playing hereditary?
But as I laughed, I cried again. I often see them fighting on the fire scene, in order to protect people’s lives and properties, they give too much. They always fight in the first line of firefighting, put their own safety in the third line, he said, the second line, called the people, to put the people behind the tight protection. I always flicked down the note, and more than once I wanted to ask them, is this worth it? But their eyes always stayed the same, always firm, and their steps never stopped.
Later, Li Ming died, just like me, too old to die of old age. When he was dying, he was so proud of himself that his eyes were almost pulled up to the sky. He said to me, “Old Tree, see, our family are all firefighters, all have faith! I still didn’t understand, so I could only droop my branches down and be quiet with him.
Far from it, back to the present. I’m dying of old age too.
Li Siqian is humming softly under the tree, there has never been any savior, and there is no fairy emperor To create human happiness, it all depends on ourselves ……
I suddenly realized that they do not believe in Buddha or God, but they do have faith! That faith is called “to continue”, that faith is called “the people’s firefighters for the people”, that faith is called “love only for China”.
Their faith is very weak, can not bless the believers safe and sound, but this faith is very great, as if the fire, in the long river of history, such as the desert poplar will not fall, and they will still pass it on, like taking over the sacred fire.
I will smile and plant a seed, just like Li Ming some years ago. He sowed my seed and planted a fire, a human fire. This is their faith, this is their perseverance. I see and I understand. I will always remember them, remember their faith, remember their perseverance.
The ancient trees are lush and green with long pavilions, and three generations of faith have passed through the wind and dust. I will pass away as time passes, and the years flow by. Flowers blossom and spring passes away, the vicissitudes of the world have not moved the heart.