The love that moves me most


There was an old bicycle parked downstairs with a child’s seat with a picture of joy on the back.It seemed to have been there for a long time and was covered with a thick layer of dust.My mother pointed to it and smiled at me and said, “Look, this is your childhood mount, remember?”When I was very young, my mother often rode her bike and took me everywhere to play.There is a high slope on the way to the zoo.Mom stopped and said, “Hold on to the handrail, I’m going to speed up!”She kicked her legs so hard that her hips came off the seat cushions.The wind made clothes bulge and bicycles sway from side to side.I sat in the back, clutching the arms of my seat, and kept Shouting, “Come on!Come on!”I was excited when I left, but began to feel sleepy when I got home.I fell asleep under the fast, slow bumps of the bike.The body, bound by the seat belt, slumped in the chair, its head shaking and it almost fell into the wheels.Mom stopped the car, one hand on the car and the other on me.She pushed the car slowly so that I could sleep peacefully in the car without any interference.In the mother’s car, there are so many stories, carrying so many good memories, that is my happy childhood life.

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