Happiness is actually very simple!

     Happiness is actually very simple!

    The first autumn wind had just blown, the weather was still chilly but warm, and it happened to be Sunday. As usual, I went to my father's house to keep him company.

    My father sat alone in the yard, tending to a pile of sorghum ears, skillfully cleaning the empty husks to make brooms. More than an hour passed, and a small mountain of sorghum ears had been piled up in front of him. I said, "Dad, that's enough, why make so many?" My father didn't look up, still carefully cleaning, and said softly, "Make a few more, so you can use them slowly after I'm gone. I'm over eighty, how many more years can I make brooms?" Yes, my father is already eighty years old, and perhaps his days are numbered, especially in the last two years, his health has clearly declined, and several surgeries have aged him considerably. Now, in his twilight years, my father is still thinking about doing more for his children! My heart trembled, tears blurred my vision, and a warm current of happiness welled up inside me. My father, oblivious to my feelings, silently cleaned the tall seedlings with his calloused hands. His satisfied expression suggested that his greatest happiness was enabling his son to use a broom he had made himself.

    Now, though I'm past forty, I often complain about a lack of happiness in my life. Happiness is actually very simple; it happens all around us, yet we often overlook it. In truth, happiness might be a few brooms my father made, or a trip to the hospital when I was a child, or watching his son return home from the village entrance… Through my tears, vivid images flashed through my mind.

    It was a cold winter night when I was in first grade. I suddenly suffered a stomach hemorrhage. Back then, the only mode of transportation was the bicycle; there wasn't a single tractor in the village, let alone a car. My father rode his bicycle himself, with my brother carrying me, rushing us both to the Nancun Town Hospital. As if things couldn't get any worse, halfway there, the bicycle tire went flat because it was overloaded. So my father had to ride the flat-nosed bicycle for nearly ten miles before finally reaching the hospital. I can't remember how I felt then, but even now, I can't imagine what that scene was like! Whenever I think of this, I can't help but cry—tears of happiness, and even more so, tears of gratitude!

    Later, my mother passed away, and I went to Pingdu to study at a teachers' college, returning home once a month. I still vividly remember my father's thin figure, watching his son return home from the bridge on Saturday evenings at the end of each month…

    The autumn sun slanted across his weathered face; he looked like a statue, a face etched with so much hardship! He had struggled his whole life for his children, yet the old man asked for nothing in return, silently burning himself out for them.

    Tears of happiness blurred my vision once more…

    Happiness is like a cup of light tea; it lacks the grandeur of mountains and the vastness of the sea, but happiness is warm. Only by savoring it can you feel its sweetness.

    Happiness, in fact, is very simple!