Tell a story about a ring. When I got married, I had nothing to do with my wife, and I naturally couldn’t afford a ring Arpels Alhambra Jewelry. That was in 1968, I was a first-class worker with a monthly salary of 36 yuan. The wife is a secondary worker, forty-two yuan and four corners. In addition to personal filial piety for each of the five yuan, and then deducted rent and water and electricity, our monthly living expenses are less than 60 yuan. When I got married and went home to visit, the old house was already a walled house. I was sighing, but I didn’t expect my mother to quietly call my wife and I into the East Room to close the door. I pulled a mahogany raft from an old basket under the bed and opened it in front of us. I was shocked: It was a few golden rings. The mother was full of laughter, and the triumph was raised from the bottom of my heart. The mother said that these rings were the dowry of her marriage, and it has been more than forty years now. The mother picked one of the heaviest ones on the wife’s finger and said that this thing will not save the poor, and will prevent you from doing so. The joy of the wife is obvious. I know that the family is poor. I didn’t want to expect anything. Suddenly, a gold ring fell from the sky. It’s something we can’t do. It’s a bit overjoyed. After the year, we got a daughter in 1969, and the name was Zhou Wei. Two years later, in 1971 we got another son named Zhou Wei.
However, the income of our husband and wife is still thirty-six, one forty-two yuan and four corners, and life will be stretched out and unconsciously empty. When the son arrived for a hundred days, his wife suddenly gave birth to a sore, and there was no milk. The son refused to accept the perfunctory porridge soup, only sold and cried. At this time, we discovered that the places that can be borrowed have been borrowed, and we have already owed nearly 100 yuan in debt. We can hardly find the source of the milk price. Helpless, I talked with my wife and said, sell the ring. When I said it, I didn’t dare to look at my wife’s eyes. The next day, I took my daughter, and my wife took my son. We went to the Xiaoxiang Bank, the only gold and silver jewelry company in Xi’an, and sold the ring. A three-dollar ring was exchanged for twenty-seven yuan. With these twenty-seven yuan, we have booked milk for our son for several months. Our days have been very tight. The ring is sold, and naturally there is no way to buy another one. Later, when I went home, I told my father that my father would not let us say to my mother, fearing that my mother would be sad. I have been uneasy in my heart, I am sorry to be sorry for my mother, and I am sorry for my wife. Since then, I dare not mention the ring to my wife, afraid of my wife’s sadness. But the wife has been tight-lipped about selling the ring, and has never mentioned it to me since the beginning, and never mention it to others. In this way, it took twenty years to pass. Twenty years have passed and the price of gold has risen a lot. Although Huaizhong has spent more than a thousand yuan, she can’t afford a three-dollar ring. Pick and choose, pick a three-gram more than three hundred yuan, it is a wish. When the wife meets, what will he say? All the way to think about the story of this ring, my heart is full of gratitude to my wife. I am grateful to my wife and I for the hardest time, especially to thank my wife for 20 years. Will the wife think that I will bring her such a gift back to her? When I got home, I put down my suitcase, and I immediately said to my wife who was greeted with joy: I will bring you a gift. What I didn’t expect was that my wife did not think about it and immediately answered my two words: the ring. Oh, my wife. Know me, wife. You have never said these two words in the past 20 years. How can you dare and scream out the exit today? ! How do you know that I will buy a ring and return this thing? Today, my wife has been away for six years. Every year today, March 29, I have to write a ritual for my wife to commemorate my deceased wife, Ms. Zhu Xi, and write down the story of this ring. As the priest of the sixth anniversary of his wife, burned in front of the wife’s spirit, said: Wife, hey, I will always miss you!