Although the old locust tree in the backyard has been away from us for over 20 years, it is still in my memory, with graceful figure and green shades.

    At that time, a labor force only can earn a few cents a day in the production team, life being so hard. Then, the whole country prepared for war and natural disasters. Especially during the Cultural Revolution, whoever was a soldier would be the most respected and impressive in army uniform. Since the fructification of locust tree was the superior material for dyeing the uniform, it became valuable. As a result, besides providing a shelter for a family, the income of tree buds was also listed in family annual budget. The fructification was picked by climbing up or a bamboo pole with a cleek on the top. Then, the fructification would be dried on the mat or flagstone under the sun until they turned golden. After filtered by the winnowing fan to classify them into the first, second and third ranks, the fructification could be sold at fair price in the people’s commune.

    Having experienced years of vicissitudes silently, the old locust tree stood quietly and sedately like a benevolent elder who tolerates everything. On New Years Day or other festivals, my grandpa always likes putting some dishes, burning rough straw paper under the tree to worship the heaven, the earth and the old locust tree. Thus, the old locust tree became a spiritual symbolization and emotional carrier.

    Unfortunately, this old locust tree was struck by the lighting in a summer day and ended with death. However, the mysterious and dignified locust tree, as the cohesion of my whole family’s expectation and appreciation, will live in our hearts forever.

    The hundred-year-old locust tree in my yard is and will be flourishing and swaying in my heart.