[My Thirty Years' Awards] Shoes Love

The spacious and bright hall, the clean marble floor, a pair of exquisite leather shoes are placed on the open solid shelf with great sculpt. They are illuminated by the lights, and sparkling with bright lights.

This is a shoe shop in a shopping mall in the city.

I sat on the soft sofa, under the attentive and considerate service of the salesmen, trying on the gorgeous crystal shoes that seemed to be fairy Cinderella.

The pair of shoes between the fingers has a high price, beautiful appearance and comfortable feet. It seems to be specially designed for my feet.

Wearing beautiful and comfortable new shoes, I took the old shoelaces home, cleaned them carefully, and put them back into the shoe cabinet.

My husband's eyes swept through the open door, and I saw some rows of old shoes being puzzled. He asked me why I should keep those shoes that I no longer wear.

Only then did I notice that there was not much room for the old shoe cabinet because of these old shoes.

So they took out a couple of pairs to throw them away, but looked at them in addition to the old style, the leather was still intact, and the heart was hesitant.

Ming and Ming are no longer wearing shoes, why not to have to throw away?

Bewildered by their love and love for shoes, they were deeply rooted in their memories, and for a long, long time.

I was born in the rural area of Jiaodong in the 70s of last century, a typical worker peasant combination family.

My father is a worker. All year round, my mother takes up all the farm work of four families, and has little leisure and financial ability to worry about the dress of our sisters.

I am the second child in my family. I have an older sister on it. My childhood seems to be worn by my elder sister.

I belong to the late type, the youngest in the same age, and smaller than the four year old sister, so the clothes are large and the shoes are very large.

At the age of six or seven, when I was wearing my elder sister's big old shoes, I stumbled into a neighboring village primary school four miles away from home.

The day of my memory seemed to be a summer afternoon. I carried the hot water filled with glucose bottles and hurried to school all the way.

During the running, the string that tied the bottle suddenly broke, and the glass bottle fell to the ground, shattering instantly.

My feet were pulled out of my shoes at that moment because of the size of my shoes. My young feet stepped on the sharp broken glass, and the blood rushed out. Fear and pain made me cry loudly. The crying would be attracted to the villagers in the fields nearby.

Grandma, who heard the news, greeted people with a sprinkling of ashes and ashes to my bleeding wound, but the blood continued to flow unrelentedly. It seemed that the blood in the young body would run away from the hollow of the sole.

My mother was called back from tiako, and I saw my wound suddenly panic. When I picked up the knot, I let my uncle ride the car to the township health center a dozen miles away.

On that day, I didn't know how much blood had been shed or how deep my wounds were. I remember lying on the Kang for a long time afterwards.

On this injury day, my mother finally bought the first pair of shoes for me.

It's a pair of green plastic sandals with crystal clear.

Looking at the new shoes, I eagerly look forward to healing my feet, and cooperate with my mother to remove the gauze and eat some very hard tablets.

At that time, the pain on the feet had been replaced by the great happiness of a pair of new shoes.

Unfortunately, when I was able to walk under the shoes, the weather had turned cool. So in the late autumn, a little girl with a horns of braids was walking limpantly on the way to school in a strange way.

Although this has been going on for many years, the pain sustained by the loss of shoes has been hidden in my memory for a long time, often in nighttime.

The broken glass, the bare feet, the winding blood, and the panicked search for their own shoes.

Such dreams are repeated over and over again.

As a result, the love of shoes is unconsciously rooted, such as Artemisia in spring, stubble grow taller.

As I grew up, with the reform and opening up of the 80s of last century, the situation in my family rose year by year. I gradually got rid of the history of my sister's shoes and began to have my own shoes.

Over the past thirty years, the shoes that have been worn are all kinds of handmade shoes from the countryside, the shoes of the thousand layers of shoes, the shoes for sale, the white shoes, and the brand shoes displayed in the market.

The most impressive thing is the preference for white shoes.

At that time, the spring breeze of reform had just blown up the shoe market in the north and south of the Yangtze River, and this kind of shoes were often seen on the market.

The love of beauty that sprouted in the girlhood prompted me to make every effort to guarantee the cleanliness of shoes, to use chalk and paste with white paper, and believe that many people in that era have had such a bad experience.

Ridiculously speaking, having a pair of white sports shoes seems to be a very popular dress among boys and girls in our school.

When I was twenty years old, I often had relatives in the countryside and took away the old shoes that I had retired.

Although those shoes are half worn, they are real leather shoes. After shoe polish, they are considered decent shoes in the countryside.

In recent years, however, few people have attacked my old shoes.

Once I mentioned to my aunt in the countryside, my aunt looked at her and said that her heel is so high and her style is not good. I can't wear it. Your sister doesn't wear it too much.

So those shoes began to accumulate in the shoe cabinet year after year, becoming a historical trace.

In the face of these shoes that once used to wear, there is something like a seed that breaks through the earth, and it rises and goes up and down, feeling and happiness.