Behind our house there was a patch of vacant land. “ It’s a pity to let this land waste,” said mother. “Since you all enjoy eating peanuts, why not to grow some there?” We children and our servant girls all liked it. And soon we started taking action. Some bought seeds, some dug up the plot and others watered the land. Several months later, we had a harvest.
Mother said, “let’s have a harvest festival tonight and invite your dad to taste our fresh peanuts.” We all agreed. Mother made a variety of dishes by using peanuts, and told us that the festival should be hold in the thatched pavilion in the garden.
That night the weather was not so good, to our pleasant, father came to join us. “Do you all like peanuts?” father asked.
“Yes!” we competed for giving the answer.
“Who can tell me the good aspects of peanuts?”
“Peanuts taste good.” said my elder sister.
“Peanuts can be made into oil,” said elder brother.
“Peanuts are so cheap that everyone can afford to buy them. Everyone likes peanuts. That’s why we think peanuts are good,” said I.
Dad said, “Actually, peanut has many uses, but the most precious about this little nut is that: unlike the good-looking apple, peach or pomegranate, which hangs its fruit on branches and wins people’s admiration with their brilliant colours, the little nut buries itself underground and remains unearthed until it is ripe. If you do not get touch with it, you can not identify whether it has fruit or not when you come across a peanut plant lying curled up on the ground by chance.
We all agreed and mother nodded her head too. Then dad said, “So you should take after peanuts, because they’re useful though they are not great and good-looking.”
“Do you mean we should be useful persons rather than great and good-looking?” I asked.
“ That’s what I hope of you all,” father replied.
We talked late into the night before going to sleep. Although we ate all the peanuts that evening, father’s words remained in my heart.
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