My Mother’s Religion

By Liu Chenglong

Translation by Trans

My Mother’s Religion

By Liu Chenglong

Translation by Trans

In my home, pea beans must be the first vegetable to witness the beginning of spring.The cluster of flowers flourishing in reds,yellows, and a variety of other colors are blossoming pea beans, and the lily white blooms are winter beans. Both the pea beans and winter beans are thriving and showing off their splendor.That they grow so quickly and beautifully is all due to my mother’s care.

When the seeds were sown, my mother mixed turf ash with dung, scooped it up and scattered it in the field. The mixture was so thick and smelly that even several days later, the obnoxious smell still lingered on her hands. Once, she asked me to do the work, and when she saw me put on a pair of gloves, she slapped me in the face and roared, “Is that the way you treat crops?”

I have seen my mother fighting over dung.After the cattle had a good feast, they were always followed by some villagers with assorted tools,eyeing the beasts expectantly. They competed with each other, trying to be the first to get at the recently defecated dung. One time my mother had no tools on her. Regardless, when she saw some fresh dung, she instantly dashed over to the cow and used her blouse to scoop it all up.

Being so proud of her achievement, she strutted like a champion and could not help giggling all the way back. When she got to our vegetable garden, she dumped it straight onto a patch of pea beans. As a result, the pea beans enjoyed a lot of nourishment and flourished.

菜豆子是报春最早的蔬菜吧。那开着红花黄花五颜六色的，是菜豆子；那一袭纯白的，是冬豆子。她们长得那么快，长得那么美，当然也有因由。

母亲厚待她们。她们下地之初，母亲就烧了草皮山灰，与大粪一起搅拌。母亲用手抓，一兜一兜撒播。你知道，那山灰掺粪便多肥；你不知道，那味道有多重，三五天那手依然不可闻的。母亲曾经叫我抓，我找了一双手套，母亲一巴掌拍过来：你对庄稼这么不敬？

我见过母亲抢肥。牛吃草吃饱后，后面会跟着好几个叔伯婶嫂。他们有的拿笸箩，有的拿灰斗，有的拿撮箕，虎视眈眈，等牛拉屎。牛尾巴一翘，一哄而上，谁抢得归谁。那次我母亲没拿工具，一头牛要拉了，母亲一个箭步，拉起上衣，全兜了。

母亲以胜利者的姿态哈哈笑，一路兜着，倒在自家的菜园子里。那菜园子里正长着菜豆子，那一坨牛粪滋养的菜豆子长得格外茂盛。

菜豆子之后，便是土豆，便是番茄，便是青辣椒，便是丝瓜、线瓜、苦瓜、南瓜。这些蔬菜，像赶赴一场盛宴，呼朋唤友，一拨儿一拨儿来了。母亲说：“要是菜豆子说，那个铁道冲的刘家去不得，这些蔬菜们都不来了，你们到哪吃去？”母亲说这话的时候，不笑。母亲平时说话很爱笑，但母亲说到蔬菜，说到庄稼，她不笑。这里面，也许有神灵吧。

母亲不太信神灵。隔壁的三奶奶信。三奶奶时时刻刻手上都拿着一副卦，砌房子、出远门这些大事，要打卦，就是扛只锄头去锄麦子，也要打一卦问神仙宜不宜动土。母亲从不打卦，她信另外一种神灵。母亲下红薯种，挑选阳光热烈的晌午。晌午时分，人都回去吃饭，鸟们也回去午休，母亲便领着一帮孩子上园子，闷着挖土，不说话。

总是有那么几个迟归的婶娘，这时节还在野外，碰到母亲总要

A harvest of pea beans was always followed by the harvests of other vegetables such as potatoes,tomatoes, green peppers, luffas, bitter gourds, and pumpkins. The garden would become as lively as a party full of familiar friends. My mother remarked,“If the pea bean said, ‘I won’t go to the Liu family’s garden,’ then all the other vegetables wouldn’t come either, and you’d have nothing to eat.” My mother always smiled when she talked, but every time she mentioned vegetables, she turned unusually serious.Maybe she believed that there were vegetable deities.

My mother didn’t take much interest in gods.However, the old woman next door did. She carried the Eight Diagrams with her at all times. Every time there was an important event like a new house being built or a journey to a far off place, divination was a must. Even more ridiculous, when she wanted to hoe the wheat field, she would ask the gods when the right time to dig up the soil was. My mother never did this sort of thing. She was a disciple of another kind of religion. She would sow sweet potato seeds in the scorching midday heat. When others returned for lunch and the birds flew back to their nests, my mother was out hoeing the soil silently with a group of kids.

It was customary to see a few women hanging around in the fields. “Aunty Liu, it’s time to go home!” they always cried out to my mother.

Mother never responded. She was usually friendly,but at times like this, she pretended to be deaf and dumb. “You can’t reply. If you reply, the birds and mice will hear you, figure out where the crops are,and come to steal them. Birds fly all over the world,so they have a great grasp of different languages and the ability to survive anywhere. Mice, on the other hand, are indigenous and have lived here for countless generations. It’s natural that they understand our dialect,” she said.

Whenever a bird flew over, piercing the air with a whistling sound, my mother would look up and gesture at it. What this strange communication actually meant still eludes me to this day. After all,each religion involves a series of arcane intricacies,so my mother’s shouldn’t be any different.Regardless, the fact of the matter is that the sweet potatoes and wheat growing in our fields managed to endure all kinds of trials and tribulations,flourishing vigorously with each passing day. In contrast, the old ladies in our neighborhood always grew grouchy a couple of days after sowing their seeds, complaining bitterly about the sneaky mice eating their sweet potato seeds and obnoxious sparrows ruining their wheat. Somehow that never happened to my mother. All thanks to some mysterious power beyond expression and comprehension.

喊：“刘婶子，还不回去啊？”

母亲不应。母亲平时很热情的，此刻却装聋作哑，不应人。母亲说：“不能应人的。一应，鸟就晓得了，鸟就来啄种了；一应，老鼠就听到了，老鼠就来偷吃了。鸟是走世界走江湖的，见多识广，它有本事到哪里都能活下去，话语能力肯定超人；老鼠是土著，祖祖辈辈生活在我们这里，懂得我们的方言不是一件很怪的事情。”

有鸟“嗖”的一声带着哨音飞过，母亲就举头打了一个手势。我到现在也不明白，母亲的这个手势与鸟做了一次什么交流？所有的宗教里头，都会存在一些神秘莫测的东西，母亲也一定会有。我们的红薯或者小麦在此之后确实平安无事，都蓬勃生长。对门的伯母与屋背后的婶娘，每次下完种回来没几天，都会骂，骂老鼠偷吃红薯种，骂麻雀把麦子啄了个稀烂。母亲从来没这回事，这是超然于我们感官之外的神秘力量。

母亲不骂人。母亲说：“在菜园子里是不能骂人的。那些恶话毒誓从口里骂出来，落到土里，会变成虫子咬菜。”母亲的菜十分光鲜，毫无瑕疵，即或是天生“麻疹”的苦瓜，也比别人家的光滑。像所有的教徒一样，母亲虔诚地修炼自己的内心。每一年新鲜蔬菜上桌，母亲都要请父亲先尝。鸡爪，母亲夹给父亲吃，那是为要父亲扒财喜。新鲜蔬菜叫父亲先吃，是叫我们孝敬。

竹子有上节下节，人有尊长晚幼。忠信孝悌，与人为善。那些蔬菜大概在它们的种子时节，就考察了我母亲的品性吧。开春的菜豆子也许这么喊：“铁道冲的刘婶子家是个好人家，我们都去她家吧。”菜豆子一声喊，蔬菜们便纷纷响应，结伴来了。我们家的南瓜都有一抱大，个个像弥勒佛；我们家的冬瓜站起来有人高，一排排靠在屋墙上像十八罗汉；那豆角，一线一线地吊串串，像春天密密麻麻的雨脚。年年都是这样，我家蔬菜大丰收。

我家的碓屋有个神龛，正中端坐着我的爷爷。爷爷是梨木雕刻，身上罩着一块红绸布。我家的祖宗都在神龛上，平时只有我爷爷值班，到我们供飨的时候，他们都回来。我爷爷旁边有一只青瓷坛子，里头装的都是种子：辣椒、玉米以及南瓜、线瓜、高粱等种子。她们被母亲分门别类，用红布包裹，一层一层地放在坛子里。神龛的后面是我家的柴火灶。在寒冷的腊月，我家在这里煮猪潲、酿酒、蒸饭炒菜，天天有薪火燃烧。种子们在这里既享受春天般的温暧，又歆享母亲宗教般的供奉。

这是母亲的宗教。♦

（摘自《回家地图》天津教育出版社）

Mother never abused anyone. “In the field you should hold your tongue, because any vicious insults and oaths spilling out from your mouth will only turn into worms in the soil that will eat our vegetables,” she said. Her vegetables were always fleshy and flawless with a pearly sheen, and even the inherently “leprous” bitter gourds seemed to be sleeker than other people’s. Like all devout disciples, my mother would discipline herself piously to improve her morality. Every year when the fresh vegetables were first served on our table,she would ask my father to taste them first. By doing so, she intended to teach us filial piety. She would also offer chicken feet to my father, which was believed to invite great fortune.

Just like the segmented culms of bamboo,human society is comprised of different groups,namely the young and the elderly, the junior and the senior. Thus, the maintenance of interpersonal relationships requires qualities like loyalty,honesty, filial piety, and hospitality. Perhaps those vegetables had already verified my mother’s virtues while they were still seedlings. Perhaps the kidney beans shouted, “Hey, Aunty Liu in Tiedaochong is so nice. Let’s all go to her house!” Maybe that is why all the vegetables flocked to our home, why the pumpkins in our field swelled to an unusual size,why the nearby white gourds stood as tall as me,and why the green beans that dangled in midair overhead on strings always threatened to pour down like raindrops. Every single year we were blessed with bumper harvests.

In our small shed, a shrine was erected with a statue of my grandfather set squarely in the middle.It was carved out of pear wood and covered in a red mantle. All our ancestors had their places in the shrine, which was usually just patrolled by my grandfather, but when we offered sacrifices,their wandering souls would gather there. Beside my grandfather there stood a porcelain jar with various plant seeds inside: pepper, corn, pumpkin,loofah, sorghum, and so forth. Those seeds were categorized by Mother with discretion and piled up carefully in red wraps inside the jar. Behind the shrine lay our kitchen. In freezing winters, we cooked hogwash, brewed wine, and cooked meals there, as the wood-fueled fire danced all day long.In the shrine, the seeds could snuggle cozily up in spring-like conditions all year round while also enjoying my mother’s pious worship.

This is my mother’s religion. ♦

(From A Map of Home, Tianjin Education Press)

菜园如神龛

文/刘诚龙 译/传神