村子口,有一个榕树,枝繁叶茂。听奶奶说,大概有几百年光景了,从她记事起,榕树的历史就在村子里口口相传。假期去看望奶奶,一时兴起,便冒着细细的小雨,去村头看榕树。榕树离奶奶不远,几步路就走到了。站在它下面,我突然就感到一种莫名的抚慰。像母亲的摇篮曲,一瞬间,让我的心像村边的河水一样清澈平静。面对静默独立的榕树,我心底一遍遍的追问,你可曾忘记了那些常依你身边的追逐嬉闹的孩子,就像那在你的枝上筑巢又离开 Village mouth, there is a banyan tree, flourishing. Listen to my grandmother, about a few hundred years, and from her memoirs, the history of the banyan tree in the village word of mouth. Holidays to visit my grandmother, a sudden rise, they braved the thin rain, go to the village to see the banyan tree. Banyan not far from Grandma, a few steps to go. Standing below it, I suddenly felt a sense of comfort. Like a mother’s lullaby, for an instant, my heart is as clear and calming as the river in the village. In the face of silent independent banyan tree, I asked over my heart over and over again, you have forgotten those often chasing frolicking children around you, like that in your branch to build and leave