Enduring love: 70 Years of Turbulent Years
One day, a boy said to a girl, “If I only had a bowl of porridge, I would give half to my mother and the other half to you.”
The little girl fell in love with the little boy. That year, he was 12, and she was 10.
Twenty years later, their village was flooded. He kept rescuing people—there were elderly, children, some he knew, and some he didn’t. But he did not personally save her.
When she was rescued by someone else, someone asked him, “Since you like her, why didn’t you save her?”
He softly said, “Precisely because I love her, I saved others first. If she died, I wouldn’t survive either.”
So they got married that year. He was 22, and she was 20.
Later, when there was a famine nationwide, they were so poor that they couldn’t even afford food. In the end, they only had a little bit of flour left, enough to make a bowl of noodle soup. He couldn’t bear to eat it and let her eat; she couldn’t bear to eat it and let him eat.
Three days later, the bowl of noodle soup had grown moldy. At that time, he was 42, and she was 40.
Because his grandfather had been a landlord, he was criticized. During that time, “the organization” told her to “draw a clear line and distinguish right from wrong.” She said, “I don’t know who the enemies within the people are, but I know he is a good person. He loves me, and I love him. That’s enough.” That year, she was 50.
Many years passed. He and she learned Qigong together to exercise. By then, they had moved to the city and took the bus to the park in the city center every morning. When a young person offered them a seat, they both refused to sit and let the other stand.
So the two of them leaned against each other, holding onto the handrail, with satisfied smiles on their faces. Everyone on the bus couldn’t help but stand up. That year, he was 72, and she was 70.
She said, “If we are both dead after twenty years, I will definitely become him, and he will become me. Then he will come to drink the half bowl of porridge I give him!”
70 years of turbulent years, this is love.
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
