The foot of my bed is shining so brightly. Is there frost already?

Looking up, I found it was moonlight, sinking again, and I suddenly remembered home. ]

Meng Jiao's Wandering Son

The mother used the needle and thread in her hand to make clothes for her long-distance son.

Before leaving, I had a stitch for fear that my son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged.

[But every inch of grass is a little sentimental, and it is rewarded with three spring rays. ]