The rice

Every winter to the night before, there's a custom in our home, and this is the day to make rice. The day before winter, when the sun was bright, the families were busy. Because of the large amount of rice per household that every family does on that day, as is the case in the home, even in the middle of the year, it can't make winter, so the rice is made for days. When we were little, we made only boiled and fried rice, and now we're living well, we've made a lot of varieties, except for the former boiled water, the fragrance, and now the fried and steamed rice, and then we boiled it with water, and then we put all kinds of pies on it. After leaving the house, they ate the smell of the home. From winter to the day before the first winter of my junior high school in town, I knew that the house had been made of rice rice, but we were all resident students who could only return to our school every two weeks, and thought that the winter to the rice rice mill could not be eaten, and that it was a day when the young wanted to have a home, when the rain was raining and the heart was so depressed. In the evening, when I returned to the dormitory, I saw my mother holding an umbrella and standing at the door of the dormitory, holding a lunch box in her arms, and at that moment, tears were pouring out of my hands ... I left home alone to study in the bitterness of seeing my mother carrying warm, fragranced rice, which touched me and sheds me happy tears. At that time, the sweet mother, the warm rice tummy was the smell of my home. Now I'm a thousand miles away. No matter how far away from home, home tastes like a long kite that can easily lead home。