The thread in the hands of a loving mother, the clothes on the wanderer's body, are tightly sewed before leaving, fearing that he will return later, who can tell the heart of an inch of grass, and be rewarded with three rays of spring.

Whenever I think of this poem, I seem to see the image of a great mother in front of me who is selfless to us without asking for anything in return. Therefore, as children, we should understand and tolerate them, be filial to them, and repay their kindness to us. Hard work