My yearnings of Shima my hometown really has nothing to do with these automobiles, or the street name. Indeed it had a different street name when my mom was a clerk in the street neighborhood office, and when I met Mr. Zhuang just after Liberation (1949). I was 9, and he was under 20. Time flies, and now Mr. Zhuang is just like my mom, hard on hearing and needing a walker. But they embody all my yearnings of my hometown, of what is good and memorable. When Mr. Zhuang worked in the local culture center, he promoted and helped a lot of young writers. When I was admitted to college in 1959, Mr. Zhuang and his wife gave me a beautifully bounded diary.

I took my mom out every morning for a walk, on a walker, for about half an hour. While I was all in shorts, she needed to cover herself up. Frail and feeble, she is just like Mr. Zhuang now. But they are where my yearnings are, forever.

对家乡石码的怀念当然跟这几辆汽车无关，其实也跟这个路名牌无关。实际上这条路当年叫“新仙街”。当它叫新仙街的时候，妈妈在街道当文书，九岁的我在新政府在西湖小学召开的什么会议上遇到了庄汀漳。他当时是刚刚“参加革命”的小青年，叫“小庄”。岁月流逝，小庄成了老庄，而且耳不灵步伐不稳，跟我妈妈一样。但当年，在文化馆工作的他给过我和其他的许多文学少年很多关怀和帮助。59年我考上大学时，他和他的妻子金梅送给我一本精装的日记本。

这几天天天陪妈妈出去散步半小时左右。我短衣短裤还嫌热，妈妈长衣长袖还得加外套。她扶着助行椅， 步履蹒跚，又轻又瘦，如同现在的老庄。但他们就是我对家乡的怀念。他们就是家乡的载福体，源远流长。