father - home

I let Zhao lean on the head of the bed comfortably, "Okay, let's eat the cake first."

"Well! Oh, Christmas presents, Ellen said, and they're all here with you."

"Ha, eat the cake first, everything is indispensable." I shook my head with a smile, and took out the cake first.Immediately, the strong aroma of butter and sugar filled the entire ward.I divided a piece of cake on the dinner plate, cut the cake into small pieces, and handed the dinner plate to Zhao.

"It's so delicious!" Zhao closed his eyes facing those bright yellow cakes, took a deep breath with enjoyment, inserted a small piece of cake, and put it in his mouth.

"It's delicious, did your mother make it?" Zhao inserted another piece.

"Yes, for this reason, she and Mrs. Reininger got up at four o'clock in the morning."

"There are servants at home, and your mother does it herself. She must love you very much."

"I suppose so."

"Should be?" Zhao looked at me puzzled while eating the cake.

"I didn't feel like that before. I was taken by a nanny when I was a child, I went to boarding school when I was eight years old, and when I came back from the holidays, I played with my friends. My mother was rarely with me. She had her own life and I didn't seem to be part of her life. Part of it. It wasn't until I came home this time that I suddenly realized how important I was to her."

Zhao listened silently, nodded slowly, thoughtfully, moved his mouth more and more slowly, and finally stopped his hands, and stared ahead without blinking, lost in thought.

"Hey! Why don't you eat it? Is the cake too greasy for your appetite?" I raised my hand and waved it in front of Zhao.I only know that I like it, but I ignore that Zhao is Chinese, and I may not be used to the taste of this heavy cream cake.

"Oh! No! I like it very much." Zhao suddenly came to his senses, and quickly lowered his head to eat, finishing the cake on the plate in a short while.

"Here, I'll give you another piece."

"No thanks! I'm full."

"Why? You only ate a little. You need nutrition now, so you should eat more." I insisted.

"Then less!".

I gave him another small portion of cake, put it on a plate, cut the cake into small pieces, and handed it over.

Zhao looked up and continued.The eye sockets are full of crystal sparkles.

"What's wrong? What's wrong?"

Zhao shook his head and continued eating the cake.Only now, he eats very slowly, as if he is savoring every bite, or maybe he is a little absent-minded.

"Are you homesick, missing your mother?"

Zhao nodded slightly, with a sad look on his face, tears were about to flow out. "Our cakes are steamed, just eggs, flour and sugar, without butter. It smells fragrant and pleasant, and tastes delicate and delicious." Zhao took a breath, "I remember when my mother made cakes when I was young, I would squat by the stove, help add firewood to the stove, and wait helplessly...that seems to have happened in the last life." He raised his eyes and looked out of the window.

I followed that deep and clear gaze, passed through the closed windows, and flew across thousands of mountains and rivers, as if I had come to the Jiangnan water town.In the deep house with white walls and black tiles, in the steaming kitchen, a beautiful oriental woman is busy...

"Mother, are you ready?" Accompanied by a childish cry, a small face that was roasted red by the fire appeared behind the stove.

"Okay. Go and wash your hands."

The boy jumped out, put his dirty little hands into the bucket, washed them vigorously twice, then took them out, wiped his buttocks, and ran to the woman.

The woman lifted the bamboo steamer on the stove and blew off the steam, and the heart-shaped milky yellow cakes were delicate and tender, really cute and attractive.

The boy eagerly stretched out his hand, and when he was about to grab the cake, the woman patted the boy's fat little hand with a "snap".

The boy withdrew his hand subconsciously, and shouted full of grievances: "Mom! I've washed my hands."

"Look at your urgency, it's so hot, how do you eat it?" The woman picked up a cake with bamboo chopsticks and put it on a blue and white porcelain plate, "Here, eat it after it cools down, be careful not to burn your tongue."

……

Zhao lowered his head, looking gloomy, and continued to eat the cake bit by bit.

I didn't know how to persuade him, so I had to pass the milk. "What's your mouth doing? Have a drink of milk."

"Look, they came to see you when you were in a coma and left it behind." I brought all Zhao's Christmas presents and piled them in front of him. "It's just that I'm not sure who sent these, can you tell them apart?"

Zhao nodded, "They told me yesterday that they regretted it. If they knew that I would wake up on Christmas Eve, they would have given it to me." Zhao pointed to the hat and scarf, "These are gifts from Professor and Martin, They have people in the sewing group."

"Oh, this bouquet of flowers is also from them." I took the bouquet of fake flowers on the windowsill.

Looking at the bouquet of flowers, Zhao sighed: "They put so much thought into making this bouquet of flowers, it's really hard for them."

"It's not. I didn't take it seriously at first. It's not real, and it's not gorgeous enough. But later, I was glad that it wasn't a real flower. Otherwise, it would have withered long ago, and you wouldn't be able to see it at all."

"Do you know? In those days, I was in a daze. I really thought they were real flowers. I thought to myself, I must have gone to heaven, otherwise, how could there be flowers blooming in the winter?"

I picked up the Bible and waved it in front of Zhao. "Zhao, don't you know Hebrew? Or do you already believe in Judaism?"

"Where, how could I."

Zhao took the Bible, stroked the exquisite sheepskin cover lightly, and sighed, "I told Ellen yesterday that they really shouldn't have given me this Bible. The Bible is too important to them."

"Yes, it is not easy for them to keep this Bible until now." When entering the camp, all personal belongings of the prisoners were confiscated, especially books, Bibles and other spiritual and ideological things. "I don't think they have many Bibles left."

"According to Ellen, they still have one or two copies. Now the Bible is shared by all the Jews in the camp. This time, after a group discussion, they unanimously decided to give this copy to me."

"They are going to give you the protection of the Lord and their blessings through this Bible, so just accept it. When you have a chance in the future, you may even learn Hebrew." I tried my best to make the atmosphere I feel more relaxed, but I have another worry in my heart: Jewish Bibles are strictly prohibited. Once found, not only the books will be confiscated and destroyed, but the holders will also be arrested or even executed directly.

"Ellen said that too." Zhao's brows were stretched, and his expression was serene, as if he didn't realize the danger at this level, and was completely immersed in his friend's sincere friendship and wishes. "This one was also given by Ellen and the others. Ellen was thoughtful and knew that I couldn't read the Bible, so she gave me a comic strip that I could understand."

Zhao smiled like a child, and opened "Grimm's Fairy Tales".Suddenly a piece of paper floated out from the book, Zhao picked it up and unfolded it.

"This is..." Just as I was about to ask, Zhao's hand holding the paper trembled, the smile on his face froze, and the blood gradually faded.When he raised his head and asked me eagerly, "Where did this come from?", his pale face, frightened and painful expression made my heart tighten.

"I thought...you know, I don't remember who brought it...it was left here with these presents. Zhao, do you recognize this painting?" I asked with difficulty.

Zhao nodded, calmed down a little, and said softly as if it took a lot of effort: "The painting was drawn by Fabian, and the poem was written by Gabriel."

I was taken aback, never expecting this to happen.

"Is Gabriel dead?" Zhao's voice was very weak.

"Yes, when they found you, you were dead."

Zhao fell into deep thought.I waited for a while, Zhao's expression worried me, feeling like something was being lost.what to do?who's that person?Why is there this painting?Send it again at this time?Is it good intentions or bad intentions?I once hoped that with meticulous care and care, Zhao would forget those unbearable past events, even if he could not completely forget them, at least he would not touch the bleeding wounds again.Now it seems that my wish is too naive, after all, we still live in this environment.Well, what should come will come after all, and the key lies in ourselves.